Standing at the crossroads, thinking east or west
Thinking 'bout the crossroads and which road's best,
It can happen when you roam,
I study confusion on my own.
From where I sit, I haven't got a clue,
Take a look, I'm sitting on a mule,
And when it comes time to atone,
I study confusion on my own.
For the most part I don't know,
For the most part I never did,
For the most part I've been confused,
Ever since I was a kid.
Standing at the crossroads split up north or south,
No clear picture 'bout what it's all about,
It's beyond my telephone,
I study confusion on my own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem