Wind of Change Bee Gees In the streets of New York City Ev'ry man can feel the cold. And I don't want no pity, But I want my story told. When the lights shine down on me, They shine on the little boy. Is this way to make him pay; Be'ng born in a world of joy. But like me He don't know where he'll go wrong; He won't cry so many tears Till he finds out why he don't belong like me. There's no room for us out there; You can lose your hope and pride.
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