Street Children - Ian Brown

Sweet dreams my little amigo

Barefoot and homeless in Rio De Janiero

Sleepin' on the step of a church

Whose doors are locked

Livin' in a cardboard box

Inside at the shrine

The Priest sips fine wine

Dines on fine food and looks for a sing

No mother no father

No shoes nor a bed

No place to relax and rest his weary head

Where his next meal will come from

Nobody knows

But everyone can see the church is covered in gold

Wish I had a home

With ten million rooms

I’d open up the doors

And let the street children through

Wish that I could scoop

All of those children in my arms

And give the love they need

And to protect them all from harm

Wish I had a home

With ten million rooms

I’d open up the doors

And let the street children through

Wish that I could scoop

All of those children in my arms

And give the love they need

And to protect them all from harm

Wish I had a home

With ten million rooms

I’d open up the doors

And let the street children through

Wish that I could scoop

All of those children in my arms

And give the love they need

And to protect them all from harm