Another Lifetime

Goodbye to Sunday, Today is Monday So I switch to auto-drive. It’s a cold, grey steel-edged dawn And I curse the fates that I was ever born As I head off to work with my face down-drawn And shout a goodbye to my wife. It’s a cold grey, spitting day. So I stay on auto-drive I check my watch at the factory gate. It tells me I’m ten minutes late. There’s no time to even contemplate That someone’s having the time of my life. Every day goes this way So I stay on auto-drive I clock in and clock out. I’m left in no doubt Someone’s having the time of my life. I work through the days in a robotic daze. How else am I supposed to survive When from Monday to Friday, no day is my day? I’m just the boss’ from nine-to-five. Then at night the television shows me a vision Of a world that’s been so contrived That I know when I own all the things I’ve been shown I finally will have arrived. I live for the weekends when being with my friends Is the only time I feel alive. I’ll give up one day but it’s once again Monday So I’m back on to auto-drive. There’s no use moaning; It’s just Monday morning And the cold dawn cuts like a knife. © Barry Freeman - January 2003