Useless lips that can whistle no more
Through gritted teeth I lay on the floor
One bullet in the stomach
Didn’t even know the dude
His name could have been Dwain McCormack
All I wanted was some lube
Oh why did I sneak?
With a tune on my lip
Please God, grant him acquit
He was only stealing for his kid
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem