Waiting For Blue

Sitting here waiting for a troubled friend,
Imagining his vehicle coming round the bend.
He always said he was born to lose,
And I must convince him he has nothing to prove.

Though we often say we're brothers,
We're still a mystery to one another.
And we feed off each other's depression
When we meet for our moaning session.

He sits at work, his soul destroyed;
And I sit at home, confused, unemployed,
But we wait for the weekend get-together,
And is he right now braving the weather?

We go out, and our soul paints our face
When we just want to blend in without trace.
Our bodies seize with a mangled madness;
Our spirits freeze with a stammering sadness.

We stand precariously on the precipice
Of a bogus idols' marble edifice.
And this idol is the most vengeful one,
Waiting for his chance to come.

God sometimes tends to totally abandon
Some of His children completely at random.
And it's fallen on us to forsake this life;
Give up warmth and wealth and a willing wife.

He constantly strives to better himself
While I constantly struggle against ill health.
I get the feeling he will win his war,
And I start to wonder what my one's for.

I'm still here, silently waiting;
All mixed up, furiously anticipating
What more bad news will come my way.
And then be over with this sullen day.

I'm so damn selfish and self-absorbed,
And my sense of charity utterly warped;
Because I don't want his sorrow to add to my own,
And I'll wish that he had just stayed at home.