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