Always a little leak,
Dripping in my roof.
As the thunder and the lighting,
Storm around my telephone booth.
The tidal wave is rising,
To drown the children a sleep,
As we hammer in the nails,
Through his bleeding wrists and feet.
Some talk of joy and wonder,
Some talk of better days,
But I try to tell you something,
That makes you shy away.
The humanity...
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