She was in the gutter again,
For the third time that week.
She made the sidewalk her home.
On Fifth Avenue Street.

He kicked her out again,
Good-for-nothing was his name.
He said he would be different,
But he still acts the same.

She's terrified,
Face full of fears.
And if you look close enough,
You can see her tears.

But a stranger visited that night.
While Good-for-nothing lay in bed.
The stranger pulled out a pistol,
And aimed it at his head.

Bang!
In between the eyes.
Thank goodness he was silent,
So no one could hear his cries.

The stranger went out the window,
And lit a tiny match.
Threw it towards the mattress,
And watched it turn to ash.

No one knew who did it.
No one ever cared.
They forgot about him instantly,
Like he never was there.

As the years passed,
And the rumors were slight.
They wondered where the girl was,
For she was not on the street that night.