The Sun Will Come Out Again.
Another blazing summer comes to an end.
As a kid it is time for school again.
As a adult it is surviving the winter bitterness.
The bills will be piling up soon enough.
Got to keep on it.
Robbing Peter to pay Paul.
Making a lot of phone calls.
One job just doesn't seem to get me by.
Flying by the seat of my pants.
They say all you got to do is ask for a little help.
And they will come.
I haven't seen this yet.
If it was a bet I would have made millions.
Self dependence on overly indulgent society.
The basis of greed.
The white widow.
Who will she get this time.
Who has she made sing the poor man blues.
With holes in my boots I go to work.
Just trying to make ends meat.
Take a seat their millions of you.
You number will be called just wait in this line.
Hours go by before you get denied the help you so desperately need.
Sorry but you just make too much.
We'd rather pocket that money.
In good time everything will be fine.
Oh angel give me wings.
Let me fly high and live life as if I wasn't already dead.
Already dead, already dead, already dead.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Sometimes you just got to make the best of what you have.
Even when the outlook looks so grim.
The sun will come out again.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
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