Corona Has The Blues

I tried to draw you a smile. My palette is missing colors.
It's hard to paint in shades of Gray with a torn up brush
and left over Thursdays.

What it is, Angel? I can hardly hear your voice when you
whisper my name. "I am sad." Life wasn't suppose to be
this way. Death is sleep. Sleep is peace. It's not my
turn. I didn't buy a ticket for this ride. I didn't get
my hand stamped to stay. But I must... for my friends, my
baby blue and my love and respect for the one that holds
the deed.

Sometimes I just get the blues