Poem: Head in the Sand

Head in the Sand

Carriage of gloom
Of existential weight 
Embody this grey Sunday 
I hope we're all fucking late
And miss the Monday meetings 
The five alarms, the shitty cereal bars
The morning coffee, the search for car keys
The suit and noose, the lonely commute
The forced smile, the-must-be-done-by-5-file
The belligerent boss, the colleague constantly cross
The three pound meal deal, the aching that your eyes feel
The signing of the time sheet, the creak of the seat
The sepulchral sound of the phone ring, the sluggish clock dreadfully ticking
The hours, seconds, minutes of our life away
I hope we're all fucking late

If you don't know what you're working for, head in the sand let's work some more

Rain snow or shine there is no forgiving just relentless business until your morals are spinning
And your weekend away flys by in the blink of an eye and screech the Sunday train
Blue and as unwilling as the rest of us
Tied to a machine and ridden till it’s crushed to dust
9 am ain’t so far away 
The blank white walls and the macho displays
Who’ll Slit your neck with a fountain pen for a 500 quid raise
Dog eat dog suppressed and obsessed us short sighted and fighting as the world burns and the tide rises and people are dying
But how did Janet get a flat in those new high rises? 
Water cooler news backstabbing baboons
The-stay-late-with-no-extra-pay culture 
The vultures and ravens to madness we’re corporation sculptures

If you don't know what you're working for, head in the sand let's work some more

Shake my head and empty it
I want to be a kid again
Or rip me apart, tear out my heart
My Soul like this train window
Glimpsing everything, gaining nothing
Break in case of emergency
Or just break for the sake of it
Bleed it dry for 9 pound 89 every day 9 til 5 until the day I die 

I've somehow managed to put this to a tune that the band came up with, keep your ears and eyes peeled!

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