Rat Race (the last two lines are in homage to bukowski) I love the weekdays whilst you're all in work. I can take a light stroll through empty parks; I can sit by the sea unhindered by crowds and cries and empty faces But on the weekends I hide away, whilst you all jostle for a drink; for a seat on a train; for a place in traffic; in a hurry and so desperate to squeeze it all in On your deathbeds You'll remember Each day of drudgery You will curse The work and the worry The people you married The days in the sun Lost to your payslips And the money Left Behind There will be a small Obituary In the free papers Next to the ads For old wedding dresses, exercise bikes, desks, and the lonely hearts. You "worked hard" it will say. And at your funeral For a moment There will be The most beautiful Silence.