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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