Collision, nauseous commotions
A note to the daytime delusional
Who runs with tangential emotions
Minding the matter
Made you hate Mondays
Ramble, fumble, crumble, grumble
While the day is then just a gamble
Implosive introversions
Prohibitive perversions
How will you be a pretty waste?
If you don't be a little insane
And move round and round in circles
To try and catch hold of your own tail
Collision, nauseous commotions
A note to the daytime delusional
Who runs with tangential emotions
Cornered by street side bullies
Crushed by suit and tie
Riding to and from work every day
While a boy fired his first in Zimbabwe
Insightful interjections
Political pollutions
How will you be a glorious prey?
If you don't be a total slave
And work hours and hours in continuum
To move the big wheels of a small world
Collision, nauseous commotions
A note to the daytime delusional
Who runs with tangential emotions
This is the morning sun
Worn by the dust and quite done
Time to tick and let the heart run
Around, a few old voles rush in to dig a dollar
Tenuous ties
Mundane meanderings
How will you be an aiming gun?
If you don't let all just burn
And walk miles and miles in all the hurry
To snatch your family bread in a hungry world
