In the street I hear the song of understanding,
the fighting instinct of misunderstanding.
I’m standin’ at the corner rockin’ guitar wild,
I’m in the street seein’ people passin’ by.

I’m a-cryin’ with the window, nobody in sight.
I’m a-cryin’ with a job lost, livin’ I must and not die.
I’m a-cryin’ without tears, I have seen too much.

In the street there are the ladies, there are the gents.
You can decide if you call them the queens and the kings.
In the street there are the voices and there is the sin.
In your heart there is the answer and the angry scream.

They sell you and your work for a soulless price.
They know no mercy, you have a child and a wife.
Politics is cheap, you can’t trust a top thief.

Fight your way through, be tuffer than all lies.
You know you’re in the jungle – it’s no surprise.
If you kill enough you belong to the right.
You are the good if you give up your life.

No, I’m in the street,
I won’t lose my right to battle and to win,
to come out of the night,
to be with my loved ones and know the right side.

In the street it is rumblin’, it is underground.
The pavement is a-shakin’ and suddenly it comes:
the obvious difference between right and wrong,
the revolution of love and the moment to be strong.

The hunger is there to be unbound,
the hunger and the thirst to be young
with union and power to move on.

People must unite, for that they are born.
Shakin’ hands is not enough: Workin’ hands are strong.
People unite! Act as one!
Be the strength and not the weakness, get things done!

In the street you can’t hide, you have a face.
In the street it is simple and the way is straight.
In the street it is whatever you can do best.

In the street I hear the song of unrest.
The fighting instinct of the entire mess.
I’m standin’ at the corner, rockin’ guitar wild,
I’m in the street seein’ people passin’ by
and I see, yes, I see the morning light.

                                                     ~Michel Montecrossa

                                                        Gauting, Germany