It’s Been a Hard Day at The Office
(Or what Portugal can do to you if you let it.)
I’ve exhausted all the options that a normal man can use.
And I’ve worn out all my grand designs In seeking for good news. I’ve travelled the rutted roads and trod the Maxmat floors, Searching for essential bits, to build, assemble, put-together, shelves, hangers, screws, nails, and doors
But there has to be a limit where the safety valve lets go.
So the loathing, deprecation, detestation, doesn’t show.
So the locals cannot see just how the fervour’s been burnt out.
To be steadily replaced by fear and loathing, and self-doubt.
I’m showing the indications of a truly beaten soul.
With hope, belief, conviction, all abandoned to the dole.
I’m bursting with condemnation, disapproval and disgust.
And the signs are clearly showing that the soul is ‘going bust’.
I’m filled with desperation, overflowing with disdain.
I’m soaking up the deluge of ‘imperfection rain’.
I’m dripping with anxiety, and sorrow, fear, and blame
And I’m wrapped up in the selfish warmth of my overcoat of shame.
Disapproval and disheartenment arrive and take front seat.
It’s the ‘gloom and melancholy show’ to make the scene complete
Depression takes a bow, poise and confidence to burn
And hopelessness now rolls up… and ‘Black Dog’ waits his turn.
But things aren’t really all that bad. It’s just a normal day.
When you’re trying to do a decent job for a decent workman’s pay.
The folks round here are generous and normally full of cheer.
In fact I think I’ll join them, I’m going for a beer!!!
Carnegie
