Get Out Of My Life Poem by Clyde King

The blues, the blues,
Yeah I got them blues
You got me in your grip
Can't give you the slip

You stole my heart
I want it back
You don't do me right
When you leave this shack

I hang my head and cry
While you run around
To get yourself high
Before you come to ground

When you go and leave me
I feel so all alone
Even when you're with me
You hurt me to the bone

I think about the early days
When you was just a kid
Now you're all grown up
My God how you have slid

You started using cocaine
Then to smoking crack
It won't be long
Until you're using smack

The blues, the blues,
Yeah I got the blues

I need ‘nother shot of gin
Maybe that will calm me
You think I'm just a fool
But you'll fall, wait and see

That gin bottle is empty
What am I gonna do?
Think I'll roll a joint,
Lay down, take off my shoes

Put on some B. B. King
Let him tell me how he feels
When he picks on that guitar
That he calls Lucille

I hope you kill yourself
And get out of my life
I just can't believe
How I betrayed my wife

The blues, the blues,
You got me in your grip
Yeah I got the blues
Just can't give you the slip