Wide awake again:
the uninviting morning light protruding, rudely,
through the night, assisted deftly by maniacal mechanical persuasions,
slicing through the silence, piercing all resistance.
(Resistance) is futile;
I can't win today or tomorrow (-morrow) (-morrow) (-morrow).
Gloom, palpable, looms tangible,
capable of infiltration.
Regular drudgery.
Trudge a weary path to just another day;
I won't claw back, racing rats.
Soul-chipping, personality-warping, if you're not careful.
Oh!
Everybody wrapped up in a nice and tight and warm existence;
everybody thinking everybody else is just another extra
on the stage which everybody shares but no-one owns.
Regular drudgery: too tired to disagree,
so switch into a 'zombie mode' - virtually comatose.
My body is wearing numb;
I fear my brain may soon succumb.
Toil and graft!
To ease your passage, oil the shafts and grease the poles
which won't cease to rent your body into a lifeless mess of gaping, shapeless holes.
Resistance is futile!
I can't win today or tomorrow!
Resistance is futile!
In 2019, I was in Salisbury and attended the Alphabet Business Convention without knowing any artist. Lost Crowns was my favourite band that played there. Pablo P.