Even Children Get the Blues

My flowers they’re all wilted.
My toys just don’t amuse.
My pinball games are tilted.
Even children get the blues.

Santa Claus is tired.
My parents watch the news.
Homework is required.
Even children get the blues.

I get so bored in school I snooze,
An error the principal won’t excuse.
Yes children, even children, get the blues.

My doctor cultures my throat.
My song got bad reviews.
I’m not old enough to vote.
Even children get the blues.

My sister’s always on the phone.
My brother talks while he chews.
My parents want to be alone.
Even children get the blues.

I go to bed before I choose,
And wake up too early: I’m so confused.
Yes children, even children, get the blues.

My momma, my momma she tries her best, but she can’t read my mind.
I think I’m entitled to get depressed if I am so inclined.
The baby, the baby gets into my stuff, my grandma wipes my nose.
My granddad he likes to play too rough, and for Christmas I get clothes.

My daddy forgot my birthday.
I still had to write thank-you’s.
My mom makes spinach soufflé.
Even children get the blues.

My coach makes me play in the outfield.
My eyes sting from shampoos.
My yard is a Brussels sprout field.
Even children get the blues.

I may be young but I paid my dues
When I grew out of my blue suede shoes.
Yes children, even children, get the blues.