And this is the Baby with nothing to eat,
Born of the girl who's killing her brain,
Smoking the Crack that numbs the pain,
Bought from the Boy feeling the heat,
Chased by the Cop working his beat,
Who battles the Gang, fleet and elite,
That rules the Street of a town in pain,
That cries for the Drug known as cocaine,
Made from the Plants that people can't eat,
Raised by the Farmers who work in the heat
and fear the Soldiers who guard the Man...
Who Lives in the House That Crack Built.

When I was at school we had Ladybird books about medicine and inventors in our library. Look what they get nowadays. Apparently it's profoundly moving and modern.