Текст: Gil Scott-Heron. I'm New Here. The Crutch.

His eyes half-closed revealed his world of nod(?).
a world of lonely men and no love.
no god.
his life of seeming nonchalance can't hide
the pain and fear that in his mind reside.
from dawn till dawn his bodyhouse (/body, house?) was hurting and none of us can truly aid his search.
we sat outside and ??? the ?? the fool
it's always easy to forecast others doom.
the savage beast that once so soothed his brain,
has wired his ugly head and stirred/stayed (?) its claim and
called ???

here is his once more soul. he will have to add the sorrow's total.
this men, still men will be like you and me.
upon the world reached out, they chose to flee.

the crutch.

the crutch.