Why does it feel as if I’m always running for the bus? Why can’t I lead a simpler life devoid of all this fuss? Another meeting looms at work for which I’m unprepared I should display my confidence, instead I’m slightly scared My tax return is overdue, I’m certain to be fined But it depends on documents that sadly I can’t find The weeds control my flower beds, the grass is inches deep Around the house the jobs pile up and all I want is sleep Each night in bed I fret about the things I haven’t done As deadline after deadline sucks my life of any fun I mean to be more organised and practise self-control But good intentions by themselves won’t dig me out this hole A leopard cannot change its spots, the course is set for us Somehow I’m destined to be always running for the bus |
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