You can’t Ever get what you want

You can’t Ever get what you want

For some reason, damn that reason, I can’t seem to get what I seek.

It seems that the girl I want is always in some other guy’s arm

Or is ripped from me for some reason. This makes me feel kind of meek.

Also, I’m never getting that pricey guitar—without setting off an alarm.

When I fill a paper with words, joyfully turn it in, I always picture an invisible “A” on it.

When it returns to me there usually is a very visible “A”, deformed though.

I study this weird looking “A”, confusion turns to disappointment, no longer lit.

I feel really gloomy and low.

So I pack up my things and drag myself home

And think why should I go on? What is the purpose? What is the reason?

I lie and dream to myself, alone.

I am violently shaken and awaken from my illusion—which feels like treason.

I have a cell phone to call for help when it rains hardest, though it seems more for style,

Because I don’t have anyone to dial.