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Meaning
James N. Dollhausen |
I lie here waiting for live to come,
Feeling like a destitute bum,
Oh where oh where have life's joys gone,
Why does everything seem to go wrong?
My guts are squeezed by a red hot tong,
I long to feel the bless of a serine song,
My heart aches for the touch of love,
While my stomach feels like a too tight glove,
Empty, empty, empty soul,
What is the next goal?
No goal, no hope,
Where would I be without all this dope?
Eating at my system,
Like a red hot piston,
I rarely eat,
And sweat without heat,
I wonder why I'm alive,
While the world is a frenzied hive,
Not really knowing where we're going,
Or the kind of oats we are sowing,
Oh what millstones we're towing,
Each a tiny cog,
Out of sync and in grog,
While money and power is our god,
We dig our graves deeper in the sod.
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