Jamil Afghan travelling to London

Road from home to London. Verse 1. They call me Jamil, spelled J-a-m. Born where the mountains stand wild and still. Afghan ground under feet, dust in the air. Carried the weight, carried the care. Packed what I own, nothing but faith and name. Long road ahead, fire inside the frame. Left the old home, crossed borders and time. Eyes set forward, but heart stays behind. Verse 2. Wheels keep turning, miles stretch long. Strangers and roads where I don't belong. Heading straight for London, city bright and loud. New streets, new rules, different crowd. Cold wind hits me, but my blood stays warm. This journey's story carved in my form. Not just to travel, not just to ride. Every step's a memory deep inside. Verse 3. Hard and true, never bend or break. What I've been through, nobody can take. From Afghan hills to London's gray sky, I bring my roots wherever I go by. Jamil I stand, clear and loud. Path I walked makes me proud. Far from the land I love the most, but I carry my soul like my only post.