หยาดเหงื่อบนผืนดินแห้ง

Oh, she She with no Who will know what poverty is like The tears that fall on the dry ground Will still remind us of the busy days The sun comes down on the roof of the house The old bankbook is broken into pieces Let it rain Wake up in the morning and spread hope Go out to the desert Spend money for the rest of your life Let your life go through the shoes The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school The old school