I’ve seen people die
be it from murder or rape
Their villages burned down
they were trying to escape
I couldn't bear their gazes
I looked straight at my shoes
It was sharp, it was tragic
it was almost like the Blues
it was almost like the Blues

It's inevitable that I die a little
in the midst of every criminal thought
and when I'm done thinking
I must die a lot
There’s torture and killing
and all my terrible summaries
War, missing children
God, it’s just like the Blues
it’s just like the Blues