Monday, November 28, 2005

When the cows come home

At 8 O'clock I join the race
Put on things to obscure my face
The sun is hard and the streets are wet
And I make believe I'm not like the rest

The herd all walk with a shoulder sag
Some have matching laptop bags
I want to keep my milk moustache
To make believe I'm to like them

And if I feel I'm going crazy
Maybe it's for the best

At 6 O'clock the cows come home
Herd into trains and squeeze our bones
And wait it out til mornings
May the circle remain unbroken

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