I'm wired so tired, but what can I do?
stayed up all night and moaned the blues
the toils of destruction
from day to day
makes my mind slower
eats my soul away
I'd like to be smiling
but I'm crying inside
from the routines of my life
that are making my body fried
there is no help, there is no hope
the condition is critical and I must cope

The condition is critical
were in a hopeless state
from a eagle to a wastleland, from love to hate
the condition is critical

the river's of thought, are stagnant and green
full of dead fish and sights unseen
no hand reaching out, just pulling me down
politicians feast,while common folks drown
listen quietly, as I pour out my soul
this hard,hard,life
is making a young man old,so old

walking thru the ruin
that once was my dwelling
I see lost souls and the people they are selling
it's full of chattering and babbling and talking in rhyme
the world now suffer's for all it's crimes
the bluest of sky's is now death gray
the flower's of the future have all decayed
and you wonder why I got the blues today
it's because we all have hell to pay