On a bright and sunny evening,
Bya little street, I'm standing,
Waiting, with an outstretched hand –
Waiting, Waiting.

1 can see a thousand faces,
As they rush past by me,
Without a glance for each other –
Without a glance for me.

Some walk in groups of two,
And some walk in groups of three;
And there are some that walk alone –
They are the ones like me.

With feelings of bitterness and pain,
My heart is cruelly torn;
A thousand people on the road –
Yet I am all alone.

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