I've woken now aware and called it quits
The writing deal is all young person's dreams
My psyche badly beaten inward screams
Its hundred times more hard to score the hits
You stand consolation embraced to bits
For blotted leaves the many many reams
I love your vocalised domestic themes
I bask in wisdom when its wed to wits
I tumbled tense at tiny stumbling blocks
You called encouragement past sharp shame
Industrial malady its sweat-in-stocks
All hypochondrias called by name
Stumbling past big spikes in unemployment
Love I yield to you for plain enjoyment
Chorus unemployment disuse idleness
