The vacant streets get crowded with kids,
Open eyes with curious eyelids,
Watch the older ones play with sticks.

With their dolls, the girls throw their show,
Bragging about the toy with the prettiest bow,
And waiting for their moms to see.

The boys with their "weapons", "shooting" and shouting,
Beating their chest and gracefully scouting,
Waiting for their dads to hear.

The sunset slowly calls them inside,
For the older ones, now comes the time,
To peacefully roam around buildings.

They cry 'cause of heartbreaks,
They hide 'cause of smoke flakes,
Blowing out their mistakes through their mouth.

No kids can sleep now, nor old nor young,
Quietly speaking and as they swung, on a swing,
They looked deeper into the sun going down.