We're stuck behind a dust-cart
On the way to get to work
And there is a sinking feeling
That other troubles lurk
In wait upon my journey;
I don't want to make a fuss
But they'll stop to change the driver
And thus delay my bus.
In tense anticipation
As it starts to pour with rain,
As we approach the station,
I've doubts about the train,
Like is it even running?
It's never bang on time.
If it's not wrong snow that's falling,
It's leaves upon the line.
And after that long struggle
I'll get off the other end
And step right in a puddle;
It'll drive me round the bend!
As each of these disasters
Are bound to do in my head,
It would have just been better
If I'd remained in bed!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem