I walk down the street thinking about the blues the constant sorrows and where I layed 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
