Love sold can be so alone,
It's a buyer's world, buyer's world,
And if you want me to go,
You got blue hands,
You got cold blue curtains,
You go 'round spending your love,
Cold blue curtains,
You want what ain't enough.
I'm a blue collar worker in a white collar world,
Ain't no wonder why my collar's blue,
And it's breaking my heart.
The best I can do is fix something for you,
Broken 'round your home,
And when I'm done by the setting sun,
I lift my lunch box, then I'm gone.
Curtains fall you know that's true,
Even when they're curtains of blue,
Your hands will hold all the stones you've thrown,
Love gone can be so alone.
Topic(s) of this poem: love,work