Take a look at the street; beyond all decorated walls of freedoms and liberties.

Remove one coat of brittle paint; you’ll see what’s underneath.

Fingers trapped in lapping gunge.

Don’t touch, pretend.

If I could change the world, I’d make it better.

Get rid of all the evil in the world.

Foolish dream?

Perhaps. How would I know what is good then?

Will I still be able to see the light if there is no shade left?

If I could change the world, I’d make it better.

Get up and speak to crowds.

I feel the change that’s in my pocket.

A cold and heartless metal makes me warm.

If I could change the world, I’d make it better.

Get up and start a change.

But now I go to sleep.