Houses upon the hill,
beautiful views but looks could kill,
because the neighbours aren't too friendly and are distrusting of those that they see.
Yes, houses upon the hill looking down to the sea.
Fluffy clouds in the sky and small boats upon the beach.
Fisherman fishing happily,
as seagulls in the air fly without a care,
and how I wish it was me,
but it is not for me, for I am not so free,
and so here I am,
working in the coffee shop wishing I was heading overseas,
because these days they do drag so,
drag so much that I never feel alive from nine to five,
and misery is its own worst company,
and with only small tips,
misery is all you will get here,
at the coffee shop by the sea.
And the owner she is miserable too,
and that is why the wages are low,
and I would rather be,
somewhere else you see,
and maybe by the end of working here,
I will still be miserable,
and I will buy a house upon the hill,
but if that is the case God help me,
not that God appears willing today,
and is nowhere to be seen anyway,
and not much help it would have been,
with all these customers,
the angry and the irate
and the ones who have complained,
about every little thing,
upon their plate,
and the ones who spilt drinks and shouted,
and ranted and raged,
and the leery and the beery,
and the rude and the obnoxious.
The vociferous,
and the boisterous and the rapturous,
who tear apart the air,
with everything that they have to say,
and so, soon I will get on a plane forever,
and instead of being miserable,
I will be happy every day.