Like the match stick girl, I roam the night for a place to lay down and rest.
Much like her I look around and long for warmth and care.
And just like her I have found the world is cold and cares less.
I walked the street and looked around for a place to sleep the cold night away.
And all I found is a pillar base outside Victoria Terminus.
I lay down there and went to sleep so tired and worn was I.
This pillar was my four post bed, my blanket and my sigh.
Ask not what my name is,
nor look to see my face,
I’m every child without a home.
The streets of Mumbai I roam.