It was Christmas time on the streets of Paris. The wealthy and the wealthy enough - which was wealthy as far as those that were not were concerned - were all inside in front of roaring fires, eating food as rich as they could afford. Do you hear the people sing Those that could not made the best of it they could. Lost in the valley of the night? Often, their best wasn't quite enough. At the time of goodwill, the rich turned blind eyes on the hunger of the dirty little street children- that were, when it came to it, only dirty little street children in any case, an annoyance on the level of the rats. And they looked back at the unseeing privileged ones, and hate and a sense of injustice grew in the time of goodwill. It is the music of a people Gavroche watched the world, cold and hungry. It was wrong that it should be this way. Who are climbing to the light Somehow, it should be made better. One day it would.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-01-02 12:08 am (UTC)Do you hear the people sing
Those that could not made the best of it they could.
Lost in the valley of the night?
Often, their best wasn't quite enough. At the time of goodwill, the rich turned blind eyes on the hunger of the dirty little street children- that were, when it came to it, only dirty little street children in any case, an annoyance on the level of the rats. And they looked back at the unseeing privileged ones, and hate and a sense of injustice grew in the time of goodwill.
It is the music of a people
Gavroche watched the world, cold and hungry. It was wrong that it should be this way.
Who are climbing to the light
Somehow, it should be made better. One day it would.