Being birthed and brought up by the dumps, they
joined a higher force gang,

They don’t perform miracles
while they ride the highness or drunken stupors

(Stereotyped for our residents)

Yet they drown us in oceans of love
Listen, fully with two ears, tidal waves of pains
Lay their hands, for all, and not the “better of” among us

And as my mind reflects and resolutes

They didn’t change the dumps, the shrine of substances and where drunks worship the bottle,
The dumps is the dumps but it’s people,
even though few, move a inch closer to brighter.

‘Cause they chose differently, they delivered difference to the dumps.