All days politicians spread the blues
Like mocking crows throwing their taunts,
Hard times are growing, what are we going to do
On every circle of futility, are we born to lose?
Do we try keep on living, as blues mess up mind
Souls in trouble, gotta stop it, try and be kind,
Down the road we go, the moon still shines brightly
But in everyday vista ,the blues arrives nightly,
All around it's crooked grin descends
Spreading its tentacles on the wind,
Allowing fine wines to become rotten
Voices to become lonely and forgotten,
Way down here on this animal farm
It's time to escape, and try ramble on,
Find some smiles of kindness, another riff
As birds head south, in search of warm drift,
We can find spaces, to try drive away the shit
With time, we can turn again into rainbows.
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