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Childhood Bedroom Blues

 

Saturday and I don’t belong

Time is short and my shadow’s way too long

In this room where I once lay sprawled

Staring right at the window like a wall,

Through muffled calls.

 

But this time is the last time I come in looking first.

But this time is like last time, only worse.

 

This is called the blues,

Always comes in twos.

 

Weekend’s here ‘cause the week got lost,

In a blend of hot water and bath salts.

Now a quarter of my life is gone

To a machine that’ll both collect and call

My profiled yawn.

 

But this time is the last time I try to see it through.

But this time is like last time, nothing new.

 

 

This is called the blues

Always comes in twos.

 

Sadder days and a folky song,

Antisocial, so I guess I got it wrong.

It’s called the Blues and the pattern’s off —

I’ll only hit ten bars before I’m through.

 

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