Boarding on the last bus from the pub
The old conductor, he knows, will give him a laugh
And like most other days he will be forgiven the fare
Samson will return to his mess with his guitar.
The small mess room has seen many sleepless nights
Being fed on music when food was hard to find
He always dreamt of making big and one day it would occur
God will be compassionate enough to Samson, the bar singer.
The pub remains mostly empty, listener even fewer
Samson staggers on some old Dylan songs, as he could not get newer
While the happening street is seeing crowd dancing on new Hindi songs
The dated bar has breached Samson and it had kept him strong.
Samson strived for his passion still longing for a better life to live,
Got dipped in his life and left now with nothing to give
But miracles do happen, as they always say
Samson was somehow offered a new job today.
The color of the night never felt so dark to him
The consummation of his dream also felt too grim
3 times more wage they offered him for his daily show
Only he has to play some music that may help the new bar grow.
The street lamps prepared a stage for a live drama
The barking dogs had no answers to Samson’s dilemma.
The faded streets saw Samson standing at the centre
‘Blowin in the wind’ one last time from Samson’s guitar.
I can’t be fixed.
But I won’t be missed.
From what I fear.
I can’t let you in,
So don’t come near.
I guess you’re right;
I’m way too thin,
And I’m fighting a battle
That I’ll never win.
I have so many flaws;
I don’t know where to start
From my messed up hair
To my messed up heart.
So what’s the point
To continue to fight?
When my restless days
Turn into restless nights.
This life hasn’t been fair.
I can finally tell
That nobody cares,
And it hurts like hell.
I still don’t understand
What was God’s cause?
Why did He put me on earth
With all of my flaws?
Was I born just to die?
Am I part of a plan?
Made to finally see
That I won’t die an old man.
I don’t know how to live.
I have nothing to gain,
And all I want from you
Is to end all my pain.
I’m losing sight
Of what I’ve already seen.
I’m losing my grip,
And I’m barely seventeen.