Ballad Of Berkstrum Jones

In the slums of the city
There was a bag of bones
Who wandered through the shadows
His name was Berkstrum Jones

He had a wife and kid at home
Worked in the mills all day
As his own name in his head
Had slowly faded 'way

He's stuck with no real purpose
No life for him to live
For he's already given
All that he's got to give

A government van picked him up
And they quickly tossed him in
Where his mind it was mangled up
And his world began to spin

He awoke inside some factory
Dangling 'bove the metal chips
Where they finally found his use
Inside of eraser tips

Now his story isn't peaceful
His ghost still howls and moans
Screams out every tragic story
Like the Ballad Of Berkstrum Jones