A configuration of obligations and considerations have given me bad nerves
the shilly and the shallying the counting and retallying
and the swerves that I make
all to take a crust
just to make a living
it's not fair that I'm giving my all
I can't take my eye off the ball or I'll fail
and bale out?
I wish
but the good fairy has gone and she has taken her wishing wand
I wish I had gone too
wish I'd flown the coop but I could not stoop that low
apart from the fact that there's nowhere to go
so I sit and I sew another mailbag
another old lag
trapped in the cells of his own private hells and the wishing well's run dry.
A guy
just a man
spanning the streams, damming his dreams
and yet the the dreams trickle through
a man
just a guy can only but try and the harder he tries too,the more that the dreams trickle on through and through and
what can I do?
Can I complain to some body
august,
some senator or just moan to myself as I usually do
'there is no one to help you', the inner voice says
'Get off your backside
and mend your ways'
and some days
it's like this
some days I could willingly kiss the **** of a mule
if only that would stop me from being this fool
but some days
when the richness of life peeps through the darkness of shadows I knew
then I really
do love it all.