Needle Man

Needle Man

He’s the kind of man who sticks his job for the money that he gets. He don’t spend his money at the pub or making bets. Goes down town, goes in the bar and makes his contact there-He gets the gear, he takes a shot, and his eyes begin to stare.

Cos he’s a junkie, needle-man-Needs the kicks, don’t give a damn. Yeah a junkie, needle-man-Needs the kicks, don’t give a damn.

He’s getting weaker everyday but he has to keep his job. He’ll get no more money on the day he has to stop. One day at work he feels so bad that he falls down on the floor-The boss he assures he don’t abuse but he throws him out the door.

Cos he’s a junkie, needle-man-Needs the kicks, don’t give a damn. Yeah a junkie, needle-man-Needs the kicks, don’t give a damn.

They find him dying on the floor, yeah he’s lying on his back. He’s covered in newspapers and a dirty ripped-up sack. The dawn it breaks, the rain it falls, but the young man doesn’t live-He gave his life to pills and syringes, and had nothing left to give.

Cos he’s a junkie, needle-man-Needs the kicks, don’t give a damn. Yeah a junkie, needle-man-Needs the kicks, don’t give a damn.