Pace

Meet the man, the talk of the street
He leaves no-one quite the same
His games goes on and everyone
Is invited to play along
Once known in the neighborhood
As a brilliant architect
Designer of roads and avenues
With a family to go home to
You gotta hurt for some people
A vicious crash, a ball of flame
Innocent lives again are claimed
Picked up the phone, they heard him go
Down boy, down boy
Now he’s get very large
And has lost the need to bathe
And shaves and changes his cloathes every day
Especially work for his pay
And we call him *rawrawrawraw*
Making *mahmahmahmah* sounds
Guess they don’t have names where he is
Has no need for one anyhow
You gotta hurt for some people
A vicious crash, a ball of flame
Innocent lives again are claimed
Picked up the phone, they heard him go
Down boy, down boy
Down boy, down boy
We sure love to watch him go
Most of these people cross the street
Must be his monster voice they fear
Or maybe the maggots in his beard
Over the years, he set his pace
He never rushes like before
I watch him mumble in my face
It’s a shame he won’t talk anymore