Street Kid

Jan 1999 Flying Stone

Felt so bad, felt alone, called my mother after one and a half years.
"What do You want? Why do You call?" Fuck off!
Thought she would worry about her son. Think I was wrong, o. k. no problem at all.
Talked to my sisters some stupid things. Christmas.


Living with the street.
Living with the street.

Every day got up at six, brought my little sisters to their children's group.
In the evening at eight had to be at home. Shit!
So many parties I have missed. Then from some day started coming late.
My mother angry, she threw me out. Fuck off!

Three years ago the first time my father called me from abroad, far in the north.
Never saw him. What kind of man? Tell me!
Every day I drink my beer. When I'm drunken can beg so much easier.
Some day my dogs and me will visit him. Spring time.