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Seven Day Blues

Broken tick-tock Ghetto gazette news Nobody’s fixing the clock Alarm is stuck on snooze A lot of people hearts dozed off in a bottle, hoping a taste of liquid happiness would make their troubles all go away Temporarily it felt like it did But hard booze and brew-skis only sent their life on the skids, a fatal downward slope Using alcohol and dope equaled no hope Last day of the week, life ain’t nothing but a party First day of the week, bleary eyes now seeking relief Row after row filled in the church pews Trodden down souls wanting to hear the good gospel news Preacher tells them, God’s gonna save everybody, including you But he ain’t sermonizing the straight hard truth, that things are gonna get worse before they get better A lot of pain in store ... a lot of tribulation, before you get that sweet sober taste of salvation But for poor ghetto souls, this ain’t no breaking news: We’ve always been given eight days worth of seven day blues Now if preacher man is telling them that, he’s speaking the gospel truth Ghetto souls have always been given eight days worth of seven day blues Such a heavy burden has always been put on us, this ain’t nothing new An extra helping of sabbath pain, God’s trying to warn you to get close to Him again Eight days worth of seven day blues, such an oppressive burden heavily taxing you Eight days worth of seven day blues, that’s all that the Devil has in store for you So get on your knees and start to pray, then rise ... open your eyes and recognize: The first day of the rest of your life is starting off okay Eight days of heaviness ain’t got no more weight No more seven day blues, only the joyous sound of righteous news