The Market Place

The red hot sun beat down on the ground
In the Market Place only the sound
Of the bustling, shuffling, crowded streets,
The Vendors shouting: disbelief
On the hidden faces of purdah grief look on...

Mangy dogs running through the legs of
The throng a thousand fold no less.
There's a tearoom cafe where on the day
The old men gather reminisce of
Times they knew in their distant past look on...

Remember the days when we were young,
The sign of our youth was the rising sun
You and I were young enough
To have no cares of our own,
But the years hit hard and the time went fast,
Now the circles turned full tide...



Credits
Writer(s): Stephen Robert Whitby
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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