Suicide Street

On the streets of Chicago, as I write
a desperate junkie gives up the fight
He sprays his brains against the wall
of an abandoned home’s upstairs hall

A teenage girl shoots her first rig of dope
because her parents never taught her to cope
She finds the relief that she’s always sought
Her biggest concern is not getting caught

She wakes the next morning and reads the news
about a junkie in Chi-Town who cured his blues
She thinks he’s a coward and can’t understand
why someone would execute such a dark plan

Twenty years later she’s found lying in the street
with semen in her stomach and tracks on her feet
Half her face is gone and a pistol by her side
Another victim of addiction who couldn’t stop the ride