The paper called it suicide A bullet from a forty-five Nobody cared and nobody cried Don't that make you feel sad?
Peter brent combed his hair And sent for the police Policeman came, took peter's name God, may he rest in peace
No one saw the note beside the body No one knew the problems But my god Suicide
The body remains unidentified
Forgotten in a file Like the letter that was blown aside Don't that make you want to smile?
No one was really satisfied About number eighty-one The autopsy proved that peter lied But they never could find the gun
No one saw the note beside the body No one knew the problems But my god Suicide
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