A Disruption in Our Lines of Influence Cursive

The days are spent
Chatting amongst the workers
Of how cold it is outside
Not to mention their greatest fears
Like finding their children neglected and naked
In battle for with some crack fiends
Like a substitute for love

And no one notices something disrupting the normal swing of things
These hands are shaking
The gloves are touching me
Reaper's regret
This memory has weakened
Now I recall everything

What's with all the commotion?
I swear there's nothing to see here
You didn't see it coming

Already

This is the part where the ambulance comes
There's a dead man in the street;
We gotta take him to the morgue
He can't be here;
He's been blocking traffic for hours
We can't find him help his will