When the gong sounds ten in the morning and i walk to school by our here
Every day i meet the hawker crying :Bangles,crystal bangles
There is nothing go hurry him on ,there is no road he must take .no place he must go to ,no time when he must come home.
I wish i were a hawker spending my day in the road,crying "Bangles,crystal bangles
When at four in the aftrnoon i come back from the school
I can see through the gate of that house the gardener digging the ground
I wish i were a gardener digging away at the garden with nobody to stop me from digging.