Mid-November Blues

Vanity, vanity, vanity;
A cheap word for rich people.
How I the son of no country
Can stoop so high amongst my ceiling
Just to be kicked away by your
Prejudice

Insanity, such a lovely phrase
Left and right buy the same
You're just a conundrum
That rolls itself down across the lanes
It kicks and stumbles
And cries for pills
I'll be too scared to admit to
Needing
You wouldn't believe me anyways

Loveless
No, love less;
You know who you are
Exactly what you're going to say
Jesus christ you're a burden to yourself
Keep calm and carry on
The best things in life are free
Freedom is solitude
Freedom is bliss
Freedom is buying 4 cans of cheap liquor
And knowing you don't have to share
But sharing everything about your heart
To the strangers
That can never get any stranger

Now you're sleepless,
Because you had to look at her picture
(again)
You're also very tired of sitting around
All goddam day
So you squirm just that much more
Hoping and bumming,
Bumbling and rumbling
Chastising, ostracizing
Bleeding
Bleeding
Bleeding
Crying
Bleeding
S**t, you mentioned it
Now I got to hear it again

All of this while I smile
Because honey,
I'm still waiting for a sunny day
When the flowers are right!
I'm still lonely,
But I can hope.
I'm still poor,
But I can hope.
I'm still crazy
But I can hope.

That's my mid-november blues.
That's my mid-november blues.

And then I go back to nonchalance.