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  • Ken Voyles

Quarantine Blues (or 2020 will never end)

Updated: May 12


Help me...

Even with summer’s warming hues

Looking out the window just don’t help,

Cause I got these stuck-inside, motionless blues.


No, I ain’t got a plan, tiny stimulus check aside,

All I can do every day is hide, hide, hide.

Wearing a mask,

Keeping my distance

There isn’t much left to say,

God, I pray I’m resistant,

Resistant to these quarantine blues

Cause everyone is lonely and ain’t got a clue.

So, let your guard down for a minute

And laugh death right in the face

Slide through another boring day

An isolated member of this human race.

When we will ever see this thing end?

I am tired of da lockdown quarantine,

Know what I mean? Even with microscope it can’t be seen.

Still stuck inside with these lonesome, cooped up blues

Asking for a song of hope, but then again I’m just a dope.

If I hear the word zoom one more time,

Or someone shouts unprecedented yet again

I will scream and turn ugly mean.

Cause I can’t get any meat and don’t have the beef,

Just these creepy crawling`, virus-forming blues.

No more sports or new movies

only bad teevee, and another night of lazy

Where endless home cooking drives me utterly crazy

and home schooling makes my math kinda hazy.

Here we go again, day number…aww who knows?

Hiding behind these masks, spitting in our own face

All we sing is of pandemic fever, and wonder what’s the matter?

Well, it’s clear – we got these gut-punching, throat-choking, quarantine-sucking blues.

Look out, we’re climbing the walls

No travel, no fun, even shopping can’t be done.

Give it up everyone,

we can't go out without a fuss

a silly bug has knocked us down, beaten us.

And so remotely we live, with these soul-stomping, economic-thrashing, world-wide quarantine blues

Socially distant? We remain defiant.

Flattening the curve? Go out if you got da nerve.

Models of despair, cases upon cases? We gonna stop this sea of lonely faces?

Or does it go on and on, through our summer, what an absolute bummer.

Being stuck inside, really, really deep down inside, these nose-running, fever-climbing, taste-losing, manic-coughing quarantine blues.

So, as we sing mighty praises to the doctors and the nurses,

And cry to hell with government and fear-mongering media hacks,

Remember the good old days before we all lost our minds

And don’t forget how we all got so downright fat,

Because clearly it was just some dumb bat.

Give me peace, shalom I am out,

no more time to shout…shout these quarantine blues.


Ken Voyles

5-6-2020

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