Poor soul Spit upon that Poor soul He never knew what hit him
And it hit him so
Poor dunce He pushed back the pigmen
The Barbs laughed The fool is dead
Poor dunce He's less than within us
The brains talk But the will to live is dead And prayer can't
Travel so far these days The talk of your life Standing so near
To innocent eyes Poor dunce
Swings thru the tunnels And claws his
way Is small life so manic Are these really the days