I walk down the street thinking about the blues
the constant sorrows and where I laid my tools
then I loved everything
then I hated everything again
and on occasion there is good working
but most of the time
just bad hurtn
you said that we're not getting better
you said we are not heading for the better
it makes my blood boil in so many ways
to move towards a light and get lost in a haze
and before I'm gone may the good working
drive a nail through the heart
of bad hurtn