Beautifully Broken

These streets
They are filthy
These rags
They don't fit me

My life
It's here for all to see
I'm poor
Born into your destiny

I have no name
They say I'm a son-of-a-bitch
It's all the same
Another name from their lips

My mom
She might as well be dead
My father
He's got drugs in his head

Someone said
That I look like a angel
Someone said
That I would soon be legal

Red lights
These walls, my home, cold
These men
At night they come, bold

I live here
In the backstreets of Calcutta
I'll be free
But all I've known is here