So here I am, late Tuesday night, fulfilled
I’ve gone to work, come home and played music
A good chat with Andy, with some beers swilled
This must be better than being fast stuck
In domesticity; there’s something sick
When individuality’s suppressed
When dreams are repressed by somebody’s thick
Obedience to society, that pest
That adds to nine to five’s slavery, worst
Of all when it extends its many ills
To our free time; that really takes the mick…
If I am allowed one final request
It’s that, before I croak, my life is filled
With doing what I want. Yes - that’s the trick!
Tue 7 July 2009
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