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Our child it was an accident, no plan involved
Our sense of responsibility in heroin dissolved
We hardly had the will to look after ourselves
Left the baby in a cupboard on the shelf
My own child I killed it from neglect
Put it in a cupboard, let filth it infect
Its mother was a junkie, its mother is a whore
So when the baby did cry I just it ignored
I left it in the cupboard, left it in filth to die
Smacked out on the floor in the lounge I lie
The opiates’ golden mist into my veins, goodbye
While in a cupboard in its Hell that baby would cry
While its mother on the street her body would sell
That baby’s mother and father they came from Hell
So in that cupboard baby will die
Without a kindly face to wave or say goodbye

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