That's it, folks.

It's all about trying, he said.
And so I did.
But the times where rough and there was no place to go and ask for nothing. Not even a hot bowl of filthy shit.
But I did anyways.
And the only thing I got was a backache from walking around like a ghost.
A ghost nobody could see.  
Cause I saw them all but they didn't even notice me.

Too many things to worry of their own, I guess.
Life can be so tough not to give you the chance to be seen.

So I died.
And my story ended like many others before.
A collector picked me up and took me to the closest cemetery.
There they looked into my clothes and called John.
John came and told'em who I was.
That there was no else to call.
They buried me on a sunny morning.
And that's it.