Steve Pineo's Blue Monday Trio - Everyman's Blues

When the world is out to get you and your back's against the wall
And the cards are stacked against you and you're all-in on a draw
But you can't bear to fold it, wouldn't dare to let it stand
So you throw down all your money on a low- down losing hand

It's everyman's blues, yes it's everyman's blues
You might think it's your own little private hell
But it's everyman's blues

And you're tired of bill collectors and you're tired of the machine
And you're tired of private sectors selling someone else's dream
But your nose is on the grindstone and your eyes are on the prize
And you're caught up in the rat race, so you just don't realize that

It's everyman's blues, yes it's everyman's blues
You might think it's your own little private hell
But it's everyman's blues

And you wake up in the morning and you wish the sun would set
'Cause your dreams are all in ashes like a smouldering cigarette
But the bottle's on the table and the clock just ain't your friend
And you wonder if you're able to go through it all again, but

It's everyman's blues, yes it's everyman's blues
You might think it's your own little private hell
But it's everyman's blues

Written by:
Steve Pineo

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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