Mark R Slaughter

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Work, sleep, work, sleep, 

Work, sleep, work, sleep, 

Work, sleep, work, sleep, 

Work: 

Work, sleep, work, sleep, 

Work, sleep, work, sleep, 

Work, sleep, work, sleep, 

Work.

Oh free me please with gentle ease

From work, sleep, work, sleep, work! 

This odium, pounding tedium 

Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.

Just whisk me off to lands afar 

From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -

That grinding train of rhythmic pain

Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’

Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop 

In work, sleep, work, sleep, work, 

In trying to make some sense of all this

Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.

But Hark! I see a golden gleam - 

A saving spirit of hope: 

‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear, 

This wondrous hangman’s rope! 

So now I’m free, released from all this

Work, sleep, work, sleep, work - 

Eternal peace and rest for me, no

Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.