Consider some of the lyrics from this late 1980s alternative rock song:
That young boy without a name. Anywhere I'd know his face.
In this city the kid's my favorite to see I've seen him I see him every day.
Seen him run outside looking for a place to hide from his father the kid half naked
And said to myself "O what's the matter here?"
I'm tired of the excuses everybody uses
He's their kid I stay out of it
But who gave you the right to do this?
. . . .
And instead of love and the feel of warmth you've given him these cuts and sores that don't heal with time or with age.