work is not my first love

Weekends come and go too fast.
I don't want to go back to sleep.
Work is not my first love, but neither are you.
I call people who wish I wouldn't call them.
No one calls me.
I call people I shouldn't.
I call people who don't care.
No one calls me.
The weekends don't last as long as they used to.
Holidays are for people who can afford them.
Energy is for people who can afford it.
Creativity is for people who can afford it.
Another sleeping pill, another night's rest.
Going and going and going and gone.
Each day is blurring quickly into the next.
Far too quickly into the next.
Where are these hours going?
One hundred sixty eight in a week,
forty spent at work,
fifty-six in bed,
where are the other seventy two?

I still haven't bought you a present.
I can't afford anything you would want.



P.S. New song up at http://www.myspace.com/fizzymelody