The voices in the market's place
Every morning they will
gather
Sharing over breakfast and
hot coffees
They will talk on the
latest gossips
The stall owners will
arrive
So early in the morning to
set up stalls
Some arrive as early as 3
in the morning
When dawn is still
sleeping in the clouds
When the dim light appears
The voices of the early
birds sing
The cars and motorbikes
sing loudly
On the road to the market
place
There will be a mad man
He doesn't care what the
world becomes
He sleeps and wakes to the
light
Looking around nothing
changes for him
If you want to listen
Go to the market place
You will find the news
Locally or internationally
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