The paper called it suicide
   A bullet from a forty-five
   Nobody cared and nobody cried
   Don't that make you feel sad?
  
   Peter Brent combed his hair
   And sent for the police
   Policeman came, took Peter's name
   God, may he rest in peace
  
   No one saw the note beside the body
   No one knew the problems
   But my God
   Suicide
  
   The body remains unidentified
   Forgotten in a file
   Like the letter that was blown aside
   Don't that make you want to smile?
  
   No one was really satisfied
   About number eighty-one
   The autopsy proved that Peter lied
   But they never could find the gun
  
   No one saw the note beside the body
   No one knew the problems
   But my God
   Suicide