I’m tired of the working days,

The ambiguous haze,

The urgent requests

To do better than our best.

Is there a place where I don’t exist? Is there a place where I don’t feel?

Is there a place I can’t resist? Is there a place where nothing is real?

my ancestors stepped upon the land with ignorance and a will to conquer

Heaven touches the earth.

Nothing less, nothing more

Than remnants discarded on the floor.

Sinks like the setting sun.

Lost amongst all of you!

The body has an appetite for the leud

Whilst the soul feeds from the heavens.

Row after monotonous row of stark white desks,

Old wobbly chairs,

And dark black screens

Staring blindly down an empty room.

In time you moved forward

For me, I moved back.

We dank in their performance surprise

While hash and manure were sweetly burning.

Still, we hear the shouting workmen

Yelling at inanimate machines that disgorge their lot.