Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young
from the album Deja Vu

Four and twenty years ago, I come into this life.
The son of a woman and a man who lived in strife.
He was tired of being poor,
And he wasn't into selling door-to-door.
And he worked like the Devil to be more.

A different kind of poverty now upsets me so.
Night after sleepless night I walk the floor and I want to know:
Why am I so alone?
Where is my woman? Can I bring her home?
Have I driven her away? Is she gone?

Morning comes the sunrise and I'm driven to my bed.
I see that it is empty and there's devils in my head.
I embrace the many-colored beast.
I grow weary of the torment -- can there be no peace?
And I find myself just wishing that my life would simply cease.

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