Who can blame him
For smoking away his sorrow
He doesn't know if he will
Live to see tomorrow
The clutches of war caught him
On his way to get bread
He was a victim
But he is not dead
He feels alive
Because of a cigarette
Not because of his hard work
Not because of his sweat
He survives
Because of the good hearts
All because of their hard work
Not because of their disregard
