The truth is The kid's medicine made him sin Whether it's from a doctor or a dealer Screaming about Juanita We put his record on Until he's bleeding on the needle And he's weeping in the street Cut down on his curtain call That's where he's gonna sleep Take aim with these hands he once possessed A dozen roses on the pavement laid the rest Oh my dear Sister Christie Will I feel some remorse She says: No, pull the trigger 'Cause he's left us no recourse His brain has a sickness So kill it at the source