Rhymes For A Working Man


I. Sitting here, looking there.

My mind on nothing.

its not easy I tell you;

the words in front of me;

on my screen move around.

They run into each other;

merge, converge, disappear;

till I can see nothing.

II. Tad dat dat, tad dat dat.

The phones now a days don’t ring.

They go tad dat dat, tad dat dat.

The one next to me goes tad dat dat,

then the one behind me, then all the ones around me.

Ta dat dat, tad dat dat.

They hit each other, punch each other; till I can hear nothing.

III. Its not easy I tell you, to keep your mind on nothing.

They teach you this in meditation.

Keep your mind free. Think nothing.

Think nothing, see nothing, hear nothing.

Quite soon you feel nothing, imagine nothing, do nothing.

Dream nothing, desire nothing, yearn nothing.

Now I know, I truly madly deeply love nothing.

Quite very soon I’ll become nothing.

IV. That’s nirvana for you, served fresh on your desk.

Goes well with piles of paper stack.

Piles and piles of paper stack and stacks and stacks of paper piles.

And those black little binder clips.

Exist to point that you are even smaller blip.

Anomaly in the System dude, you are still thinking.

But don’t worry, they’ll sort you out.

The last remains of sanity, they’ll extort out.

Shout out, cry out, laugh out.

Don’t blame anyone though, you see the window, if you have the guts then jump out.