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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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