Walk to Work

Do you feel that the job you work
Is a cloak you wear?
Do you feel those normal fears?
I’ve a few considered to be pretty weird

I hadn’t held a human baby ’til I turned nineteen
When I finally did I felt like crying
But I just took a second
To push it back under

His name was Beau
And now he’s nearly two years old
His hair was red but the air was cold
And now that memory is steeped in molten gold

Going back to the initial topic
I’ll take the labour that I am offered
But every time I’m reminded of you
An hour passes and I forget what I had to do

Wish that I could follow through
With everything I said I was going to
And it’s hard to focus on a lot of things
But existential loneliness isn’t one