He's five, in his garden on the seesaw,
Wide eyes, life ahead and he already knows.
His existence won't be peacefull,
He heard some dark things on the radio.
But now the boy has grown up,
The child is gone and a man has become,
His futur is darker than he thought.
No jobs, no family, nothing he owns.
His days are spent trying to forget,
A bottle in one hand, a spliff in the other.
"It's bad for you" he has been told,
"Good, he says, cause I wanna die soon"
And tonight again he'll go to a pub,
Spend the coins left in his pocket.
And like every night, try to find a body,
He can lose himself in.
