Well they've got boughs that seem to be
Useless just now, just memories
Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky
Now and again they get disgraced
dressed all up and then raped in the face
And if you stare too long, you'd probably break down and cry
Whoa, oh, oh street child o'mine
Whoa, oh, oh, oh tree shrub of mine
They've got eaves of the greenest dyes
as if they're, brought by train
I'd hate to look into those eaves and see an ounce of pain
Their shade reminds me of a cool safe place
Where as a child I'd hide
And pray that butt plunder, and the pain to quietly pass me by
Whoa, oh, oh street child o'mine
Whoa, oh, oh, oh tree shrub of mine
Whoa, oh, oh, oh street child o'mine
Whoa, oh, oh, oh tree shrub of mine
Whoa, oh, oh, oh street child o'mine
Ooh, tree shrub of mine
Where do we go?
Where do we go now?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go now?
Oh, where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go now?
(Street Child)
Ooh, where do we go?