I found myself in a jam... reluctant to change. I was grown on common kinda ground and walked the city streets with the disheartened and lost like myself. I knew who they were. I saw them reaching for the same jars in the same grocery outlets. We held the same posture and fears and blood pressure.
I found myself in a jam. Halfway through my peanut butter sandwich. But I saw no end to the torment. We fight and we try. And why? My mood, my status and my affect --my sense of myself in this chair
this room
this house
this hood
this town
this city
this country
this world
this universe
the emptiness
Better off senseless sometimes
I have felt so foolish
my reputation fallen
My spirit lost and out there somewhere lookin' for you
Callin' and callin'
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