Hard Times

Yes! I'm on the SS,
The noble bloody initials,
They spell "sick society",
With pent up violence.
I reach into my back pocket
but I know there's not enough there,
It's alright I have my pride,
I won't ask you for a beer.

I just wish you'd notice that my glass was empty,
Like I did for you many times before,
But I won't ask you!

Yes! They don't make jobs
for human beings these days,
Stifled my imagination,
Couldn't even see a natural future.
Steaming violent temper,
Left the computer to work on it's own,
Couldn't care a shit about making ends meet.

Yes! It was easy at first
to lie back and feel good,
To feel the years of boring work,
Drift out of my troubled mind.
Leaving, a fresh clear path,
On which to find something new,
But the bread ran out
in tune with my happiness.

Crashing back to reality,
Crashing back down to solid earth.
After years of endless binging,
I stare . . . . at my empty glass!

I just wish you'd notice that my glass was empty,
Like I did for you many times before,
But I won't ask you!

Crashing back to reality,
Crashing back down to solid earth.
After years of endless binging,
I get up and run.

BM118

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© John Buckingham 1982