The steam rises in the morning,
and you stand there with your suitcase,
you with time on your hands,
and on a holiday to who knows where,
and I see you happy,
and I wish I was with you and without any cares.
For the day is long,
and work is tedious in a frantic world gone wrong,
and I wish I was with you,
and I wish I could come along,
but I work too much,
and my back aches and my mind does too,
and I wonder why the working life is so long,
for every hour of the day that we spend in a year,
the work-life balance is all wrong,
and because all we have is a month off in the year,
and the odd bank holiday and the rest of the time,
we are asleep on our backs,
it seems a shame that life and work cannot be arranged, better to give you more hours in the day,
more hours in the day to relax.
