He sits in a room down the dead end street
Dirty old T-shirt sweating in the heat
He's got no girl and no money for a drink
No deeper way to sink
He was looking for a job, jobs are hard to find
Everyday the same things torture his mind
Built himself a owrld
To leave those troubles behind
I'm sorry that world isn't mine
Once we were friends but that is long ago
In1987 I decided to go
I left him in his room down dead end street
Now I've heard he's killed his neighbours dog
Just to have a piece of meat
And that is what I call
No chance to retreat
Writer(s): Thorsten Wingenfelder, Kai-uwe Wingenfelder, Gero Drnek, First Renier, Christof Stein, Johannes Heini Schaefer
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