In the city where the streets are clean, but the air is not,
and work,
it is suffocating and an only unhappy means to an end,
and here, we are an unhappy lot,
but here we go happily again,
and it is one of the only happy times of the day,
a ten-minute break,
where people step outside into the rain,
and breathe in the barely fresh air,
the barely fresh air,
that surrounds the inequities of women and men,
the sad,
the downtrodden,
the stressed,
the anxious,
the sodden,
oh, how this world is,
and how quick it is to crush the weak,
and those with sensitive hearts,
again, and again and again,
and in between the rain,
people with ashen faces stride with large paces,
and head for somewhere miserable probably,
destination unhappiness,
probably,
yet again,
oh, what evils there are in the stresses,
and in the anxieties in modern living that torment humanity,
again, and again and again,
yes, in modern society,
where people whose brains are ready to explode in frustration and irritation far too often,
and who cannot pretend,
who cannot pretend to be happy,
in this life where time is far too short,
and happiness condensed,
and oh, what an empty life it is,
and here am I watching the world go by through the rain,
through the rain,
and all my heart does is complain,
why am I here,
why am I here,
wasting my time,
on a minimum wage job again,
working all hour’s godsend,
oh, I wish I could pretend that there was some meaning to it,
but there isn't and really, I should quit,
quit this city,
yes, quit this dull grey mostly awful monstrosity,
that is definitely not my friend,
and that is only killing me through the stress,
oh, what a mess,
what a mess modern living it is,
oh, the insanity and the tragedy,
oh, the modern malady and the despair of the city,
where it is all work, work, work,
and dull,
bland,
and it is an empty boring life,
with not much time for excitement,
and a lot of time spent praying for the end,
praying for the end,
hoping to escape to don't know where,
and only passing time as if a robot,
countless days spend in endless repetition,
endless repetition,
bland endless repetition destroying the mind,
and savaging the human condition,
a life with not much meaning,
but leading to death I am sure,
oh, God help me,
please, get me away from this,
far away,
or I will be lying in my grave,
well before I should be,
oh, what a misery,
what a misery,
ten minutes only,
ten minutes only,
empty,
irrelevant time,
that at which I will look back at,
and not recall any of it,
and it will have had no meaning at all,
and most of life,
will have been a pointless thing,
a needless thing,
with so many countless days,
spent with nothing to write home about,
and nothing of which to jump for joy about,
and only boredom,
and deterioration of the brain,
oh, what is this life about?
what is this life about,
because it is only filled with misery,
and it means very little to me,
but here I am again,
breathing in the barely fresh air,
and yet again,
tired, exhausted, and worn out.
Strange
Strange, silence,
strange silence,
unusual for your place,
because normally next door,
your neighbours scream at each other both night and day,
and right now, oh, what wonderful silence,
but maybe they are dead?!!
Maybe we should call an ambulance right away,
yes, strange silence,
unusual for your place,
maybe they've murdered each other?!!
But then again, maybe they did not die,
but maybe they were taken away in strait jackets,
but anyway, I like the silence,
I like the silence a lot, and long may it stay.
