the blues stand at the door

We want to cry

We want to laugh

But we can't do

We will look foolish

The dishes of lies

The course that it comes

We can't taste it

The smell turns us away

We want to go

The blues stand at the door

With pens and note books

Say “what's your take?”

“We can't say

We have no desire to taste

The smell turning us away

We are not standing here whole day”

But the blues take us back

We want to cry we want to laugh

We can't do we will look foolish

So we stay counting the day