blues in the morning, blues at suppertime

it's a long trod home
you're wearing on not your own
what you have left is gone
speaking of thoughts to noone
because you should have taken
the long road out, into territory
unseen by human eyes, electricity
like everything is mostly hidden
except when dangerous
forgiving lost occasion
of problems won't come later
the solution's how you bear
of what would come to scare
the thought would be erased
and nothing put in its place
it is unprecedented,
that you should be
subjected to this
only you would have known
calling it all your own
problems sought and chased after