In the shadows of an alley Lurked that wastrel Bill McNally A cigarette cupped in one tar stained hand, In the other was a knife He'd come to take a life
Psychiatrists, psychologists Councillors and more, An endless round of battles In a never ending war. Depression pills and sleeping pills Stomach pills and stuff,
I passed a pool of puke today When down the street I strode, Why not use the gutter That runs twixt path and road? Scant yards on a second splash Caused me to check my stride,
Tarnished tombstone tower blocks Stand stark against the sky, Tags tattooed on cold grey walls Invasive to the eye; A weed-grown, worn-down walkway To a door directs my feet,