The morning grind

D A
How do you begin,
when you cannot buy the seed
and it's not even,
it's not even spring?

Where do jokes come from
when everyone heard a good one,
everyone had a laugh
just the other day?

G
Someone must be funny,
someone must be clever,
A
it's sure-in-hell ain't me

G
someone must have some thoughts
A
while I have massive doubts.

Every night I dream and ask the sandman,
and I get hardened sand, real diamonds.
Oh, but the morning grind
turns it all to dust in the wind.