11 June 2012
In a cut throat city on a winters day. A young boy I knew went and lost his way.
Little Noah with the grin, his nickname. He'll pinch your wallet, he has no shame.
He's a shady runt. Or so they say. But the boy scouts came and then they took him away.
He was just trying to make some money for his brothers and sisters.
A skinny kid lifting concrete blocks, hands covered in blisters.
And they're so hungry, they have to eat. Sneak a loaf in your bag but be discreet.
His father drowned his sorrows in alcohol. Disappeared one night with no phone calls.
He's a little guy, but he'll stand tall. Judgemental stares makes his skin crawl.
School was always such a waste of time. But maybe if he'd stayed, now they'd all be fine.
But he can't look back. It's too late now.
He's trying to play the game the only way that he knows how.
He can't look back. He has to live his life.
But someone had to go and give him a knife.
But he wont use it. Find somewhere to lose it.
And now they want it back, but it's long gone.
So they cracked his jaw, and broke his arm.
Bills over due, lights all out. Sitting in the dark trying to figure things out. Surely there has to be another way out. Everyone has options, but he goes without.
Times running out he needs to make cash fast. Not a quick stack, he needs a mass to last.
So he walked into to the abyss where he sold his soul. For an empty promise of platinum and gold.
They told him,
Keep your mouth shut and follow our lead. He never really meant for that guy to bleed.
But now he's in the stands, how do you plead?
Not guilty...... let me go...please.
But he knew when they looked at him. They'd made up their minds and then they threw the book at him.
So he's locked away, in a lonely cell.
Now little Noah with the grin's living in hell.
Little Noah's Song. • Opuss № I