george town penang
The old must go
In the name of developments
Gaining wealth losing souls
This is what happening
The heritage credo
It never really happens
The souls of the people gone
I remembered I walked
When I stayed in Penang for years
The sounds of yesteryears
It is all buried in photographs
Some in stamps some in artists hands
It is through their eyes we see
The old once so lively
Full of zest and gossips
Now what you see
The empty shells hollowness in the nights
Leaving you to listen of sounds familiar
It isn’t there any more
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