Miseries.

All my folks know is miseries
from the cradle to the grave.
All they know is miseries,
that’s where they seem to live.

They hand me down their miseries,
they let it roll and it rolls.
From wide-eyed to pinched heart
no way to count its toll.

All I know is miseries,
and the supposed black hearts and deeds.
All I expect is miseries,
it’s the one thing I can see.

I don’t want no miseries,
one thing ends another can begin.
The fear and longing for miseries
are the reason we are not free.

I don’t see no miseries
maybe you’ve made me blind.
I don’t accept no miseries
not from you or any one.

I don’t create my own miseries,
just having fun giving it a run.
Don’t talk to me about miseries.
It is just one of them.

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