talkin’ day-to-day walkin’ along blues … … …

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nothin' like a train

scraping for scraps in the dirt,
sweat soaking my tattered shirt,

walking each day in and out,
never knowing what this life is really about,

paying the bills,
earning a wage,
battered blue by callous rage,

trapped in a rusty cage,
yearning to fly free,
like birds kicking the branches of a tree,

away, far away from the slavery of wage,
locked up, trapped,
trudging through it all, each and every day,

you see, i’m a-talkin’ day-to-day walking along blues,

bruised soles, from slip slidin’ in thousand dollar shoes,

trying to not look closely at,
the gilded prisons, the cars and this and that,

where feelings are numbed,
as loose joints are bummed,
and consciences are systemically dumbed,

cos’ they tell us to finish school, get a degree, cos’ you don’t wanna be a fool,

they tell us buy a car, rent a house,
adorn your bodies in silken shirts and a fashionable blouse,

while dying a little each day out and in,
cauterising feelings within,

well, i’m old enough now to not drink the kool-aid,
of consumerist addiction,
all of it just a flimsy band-aid,

to stem the humanity from a-flowin’,
cos’ as you know you can’t help no one,
till you yourself are someone,

so when will it all come crashing down,
tearing the cardboard smiles, exposing the plastic frowns,

i ain’t got a clue,
and i sure hope you do,

cos’ with you it ain’t never been ’bout the blue label we drink or the fillet-mignon we chew,

‘cos with you it’s always been about me being me, and you being you,

nothing fancy, nothing smooth,

‘cos with us, within us, it’s always been ’bout being true … … …

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