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Текст (слова) песни: G.B.H. - Dead On Arrival
Tracks in his arm made him a man,
No-one could understand.
Each night he`d go out shooting skag,
Met a pusher who sold him a bag.
That`s why he was ..
Dead on arrival .. ..
Ran out of money so he stole a car,
tried to run but didn`t get far.
Sent to prison, no turning back,
saw his arm, weaned him off smack.
Out on parole tried to keep calm,
finally died with a needle in his arm.
Yes out on parole, tried to keep calm,
finally died with a needle in his arm.
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