Death Of An Individual Testo

Standing on the corner of crowded Cruises Street
I seen the loner walking his lonely beat
Collection for the third world, death is near
Don't give 'em any money, we got our own problems here

I don't care anymore
Heaven's near, stuff of lore

Give a man a kick when he's on the ground
But don't hurt him if you think you're allowed Lopped off from the top, anti-septic
Bypassed at the bottom for being dyclectic

I don't care anymore
Heaven's near stuff of lore

No more.