Bubble Muzzle Kae Tempest

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Here's a poem
It goes like this

You’re off to work again
You need to make a wage
Although you kind of feel like it's a waste of days
Measuring the hours of your life and the paper made
And now your pleasure is devoured, right?
It's getting tedious to take the pace

I mean you’re sick of staying late
And rising early with a day to face
You know, punching them numbers in that database
And pretending that you care about the day-to-day
Of these office politics
Man they're enough to make your faith decay

And so this morning you were staring in the mirror with your razor blade
And you noticed with a shiver that your face was grey
Because you realised
You're actually, genuinely pissed off
Every single time your train's delayed
And you got this weird feeling
Like you're beginning to fade away

But it's cool though
Because you've got this girlfriend that you've been seeing for a while now
And you love her but you don’t really feel the same when she smiles now
I mean you only ever make love with the lights out
She don’t really seem as on it as she used to
But it's fine, right?
It’s fine