She had a mental problem. She couldn't concentrate. She was her own delusion. She was her own mistake. She did a lot of acid. That put the voices down. And one day at her birthday. They found her hanging upside down. They say she lived her life on the avenue. They say she cried from the weight of her spit. They claim they were the only ones that she ever knew. Ah but why are they weeping now?. When she was alive they were not around. They were locked in their own abyss. We met in the gutter. We shared a smoke or two. I told about my mother. She showed me her tattoo. She went out through the city. Got lost in Fulton Town (?). And one day at her birthday. They found her hanging upside down. They say she live her life an American. They say she whored away but still. They claim they offered her their helping hand. But the talk's all the same to me. They call themselves her family. It just makes me ill