What I Can do by Frizzy J

I am doing what I can

To make it through a day

Twelve hour shifts through the night

With no rest in sight

I sleep in a bed polluted

With whore’s blood and poison hate

But I’m doing what I can

To make it through the night

I’m stretched too thin

I can hardly eat

My spirit’s beaten down from this horrid din

And I notice I’m just tender meat

I am doing what I can

To make it through a day

Twenty-four and seventy-two

An hour passes slow

I come home to myriad abuse

And a child suffering more

My son, I’m sorry

But I’m doing what I can

To make it through the night