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The Old Routine ©

Scott Baggley
Rochester, England

I'm really bored in this office, everyone else seems so busy
all I'm doing is waiting for lunchtime to satisfy my hunger
I don't even know what I want to eat
as long as it fills a hole

I'm so fed up with nine to five, I need a little less routine
every day should be Saturday night when inhibitions fade
whisky warms more than the heart
a spirit to ignite the spirit

on Sundays I would skip the kirk, have an extra hour in bed
I'd lie awake dreaming of sleep and other things I miss
the salty air of Leven
fresh mackerel from Pittenweem

a winter drive through magnificent Glencoe with Morrison singing proud
pride doesn't come before a fall it comes from breathtaking scenery
taste the nation with a leisurely lunch
soul food warms the heart

warm lethargy soon takes over at home in front of the fire
glowing. my inner peace contradicts the angry, red hot coals
feet up, a comfy chair
my head falls gently to a dream

Monday morning 9am I pull my chair right in
as close as my satisfied girth allows
casting off the weekend slouch
back in the old routine

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