Walking along the city streets,
cold and forgotten,
Getting into ally fights,
Harsh and tiring,
we still keep our pride,
even as our whimpers and cries are heard throughout the night,
It's our job to stand tall,
when everything falls,
and help young children,
And kittens out of fires,
But they'll never know where we go after,
to lead a life of sorrow,
we don't need no statue,
It's not like we're getting one anyway,
because it's what's expected of us


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