When I last spoke to a working man
With a lobster trap mind and knuckles applied to reason
And a thumb quashing any interest in having a good time
He spoke of divine order while wearing two mismatched shoes of different colors
He spoke of hard work with a lottery ticket in his pocket
And he channels what's long been put-off for an oft postponed future breaking point
For security purposes, here's a list of the times I'll let you down
We need to be careful of dark, unhappy moments
Not at all unexpected, totally foreseen
Thunder filled clouds visible from a long way off
When they shake up us enchanted prisoners, we are already bolted to the floor
And through wants and desires used as a crystal ball predictor
One can see a clear picture of future chaos
I want to rob surprise at gun point
I just want to warn you what you can expect from me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem