Valentine Brodie - Life In The Ghetto
I loved my mom and I loved my pop
When I reached the age of seven
When I cloud see and understand
My mom, she went away and left my pop
Lady
She went away with the iceman
This, I could not understand
So I grew up with my father
Things a bit harder
I've slept... in boats and on the beaches
I was burnt, roasted by the sun
My lady
She went away with the iceman
This I could not understand
So I grew up with my father
Things a bit harder
I've slept in boats and on the beaches
I was burnt... roasted by the sun
I was burnt... roasted by the sun
I was burnt... roasted by the sun
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