Why is it that when I'm at war,
Or when I'm at home just looking to score,
My life is **** just walking out the door,
But when I look right into the mirror,
All my mistakes are seeming nearer,
Time to go to work and make my life clearer,
But when I'm at work I just repeat,
The same solid mistakes right on this street,
The cool of the day or the heat of the night,
No hope is here no way for right.