All week he has been tortured
By the thought of an old woman
Excreting in the street one night
He stumbled on her coming home
He knew this was happening
But not to him disgust
And sorrow turned away
Did he behold her angel
In his tortured thoughts
Turning his back to her
Waiting asking can I help
Her angel answering with a sigh
And think about all the others
Neither your sisters nor brothers
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