Living a rat’s race
At our own pace,
Instead of dreams being nurtured
We see them being murdered.
Swallowing the pride, unwillingly
9 to 5, routine daily
Some call us working class hero
What we actually become, zero.
It’s Friday night,
And when booze flows;
It says everything will be all right
Awake till sunshine,
And will have some more, while I have time .
The boring dingy life
Will begin once again
But then someday, I will lose that tie.
And I will be in the company of you again.