Fruits Of Labor
Fruits Of Labor
Hands big and small
Unite to roll the ball
Change for better is their call
A life without any fetters
Clothes without any tatters
And an overhead roof as a shelter
For morsels thrice a day
Their hands will bake clay
Forget the play; school is far away
Yet they don't mind hands dirty
For they can live with integrity
Away from pity and charity!