I don't know where I'm going to.
Time slips away like a steelworker's pay
You and your plans for a brighter day
Will crumble too, I'm feeling blue for you.
I've seen things you never saw.
The garden you grew is a witches brew,
And though you say things are right for you,
Your house of straw's one big faux pas, withdraw.
You and I can never agree.
I turn in at night with my chest feeling tight.
And though you say that things look bright,
I only see more misery for me.