Every day the morning sun
Comes to challenge them
Takes them from the dream to the world
Who didn't want them anymore
Stilts, warehouses, rags
Children of the same pain
And the city that has the open arms
In a postcard
Closed to real life
Which deny them opportunities
And shows the bad face of evil
Flood, Trenchtown, Maré slum
Hope doesn't come from the sea
Not even from TV antennas
The art of living in faith
But we don't know faith in what
The art of living in faith
But we don't know faith in what
Every day the morning sun
Comes to challenge them
Takes them from the dream to the world
Who didn't want them anymore
Stilts, warehouses, rags
Children of the same pain
And the city that has the open arms
In a postcard
Closed to real life
Which deny them opportunities
And shows the bad face of evil
Flood, Trenchtown, Maré slum
Hope doesn't come from the sea
Not even TV antennas
The art of living in faith
But we don't know faith in what
The art of living in faith
But we don't know faith in what
Flood, Trenchtown, Maré slum
Hope doesn't come from the sea
Not even TV antennas
The art of living in faith
But we don't know faith in what
The art of living in faith
But we don't know faith in what
The art of living in faith
But we don't know faith in what
The art of living in faith
But we don't know faith in what