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Melancholy Man Ii

There are many important issues
I should be concerned about.
But, I don't feel anything,
Can't do anything, about reaching out.

Thinking of doubts, fears and regrets,
And the critical state of our union -
But, only going through the daily routine,
Hoping, somehow, for personal absolution.

And, I think I am a melancholy man,
The one the Moodies used to sing about.
Perhaps, I am that melancholy man,
Here just trying to figure things out.

So I jumped on the I-5, headed north,
Fearing bad luck and terminal rage.
Looked around, but not too closely,
At each angry lemming in its cage.

Three hundred ghosts in front and back,
The lemmings heading for the jagged coast.
And, all the divergent roads traveled,
The least worrisome traveled most.

Have I become a melancholy man?
The one the Moodies used to sing about?
Am I that melancholy man?
Here just trying to figure things out?

The sunlight disappears too quickly
As the moon's glow struggles to be found.
I hear the 'voices carried on the wind -
Looking for the stars on sea and ground.'

And, daybreak wanes into dark, bleak night.
Another day spent as the people stare,
I can't help but wonder, as I sigh,
When will the world finally start to care?

And, I have become a melancholy man,
The one the Moodies used to sing about.
Here I am, I have become that melancholy man,
Here just trying to figure things out.

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