Drug soaked child sitting in the gutter,
selling your arse for your bread and butter.
Shoving needles in your scrawny little arm
who’s to blame for all this harm?
You can try to find others to blame,
but in the end, what’s in a name.
It’s you who’s got to choose to live,
that’s something no one else can give.
Drug soaked child sitting in the gutter,
Can anyone hear the prayer you mutter?
A timid little sound coming through the pain,
Just that tiny voice tries to keeps you sane.
You cry and whimper wanting someone to care:
but is anybody listening? Is anybody there?
No hand is extended, there’s no one to hear.
So your heart it just trembles: shrinking in fear.
Drug soaked child sitting in the gutter,
Over your pain we hear the words you utter.
But we’ll walk away and leave you there
Cos’ the rest of the world really doesn’t care
You can be beautiful, young, strong and free
but they’re not things you’re choosing to be.
You’ll die from putting that shit in your vein.
Before the end I hope it takes away the pain.
Drug soaked child sitting in the gutter
try to find peace somewhere in your mind’s clutter.