Walking alone a dirty old street, Singing an old song incomplete. My life was sweet. Then I came upon a group of young lads Playing with real guns in a dirty old backyard. How sad. They were dressed in rags, or I'd better say bags, For it's hard to find a word to explain how sad. Dirt upon their faces and in their hair, Made me think of all the sadness these poor children bear. No one cares. No one cares. On this dirty little street The things you meet Will make you really wonder. How can life be something sweet If no one cleans the street. This society really lacks humanity. Everything around will soon be falling to the ground. How sad. You may not believe, or you won't conceive, There are streets like this existing in every town. Undressed little beast and blood thirty fleas Hanging around on every doorstep. But life goes on, life goes on, life goes on. On this dirty little street The things you meet Will make you really wonder. How can life be something sweet If no one cleans the street.