Chris Matthews.

Crossroads.

 

Waiting at the crossroads for the daemon to arrive,

Strive for perfection, playing guitar,

One day I'll be that blues playing star.

 

Many a soul has trod this road,

Strode to the one to make their pact,

Make up for things their life has lacked.

 

Thirst a plenty, the minds a rush,

Hush the fear as night closes in,

There's more in this world, I'd call sin.

 

What of others alone at home?

Roam their minds while they're asleep,

Trust in God for them to keep.

 

He hands the paper like the dole,

Stroll in the park, for one who's caged,

Uneasy choice for all unwaged.

 

Signed in blood like an old pay slip,

Rip against a system, thats all we do,

Few and far the choices, given to you.

 

I volunteered my soul for a better life,

Strife is an illusion, what is there to gain?

I am lonely once more, left with my pain.

 

Go to my children asleep in bed,

Bled from their future, have I done wrong?

The truth is: I just want to belong.

 

So when you pass me playing the blues,

Muse over where, You'll be one day,

Keep the daemons in Gov. at bay.