A depressing chore

Sometimes something hits me, and I’m lucky to survive so I can write it down. The following was written on a tram in Kraków (Poland). It’s probably not beautiful, it’s just how I felt. We had a splendid night out however.

Very depressing! Careful!

A depressing chore. Sometime the world did go insane, Sometime someone pushed it down the drain, Sometimes blood colors the rain, and it never looked the same

Now breathing became a chore, and the air is on sale in-store, every done year feels like keeping a score Sometime men got a brain, Sometime someone outsmarted a flame, Sometimes making it better is just in vain, as long as we stay humane

Now that we walk no more, and all life is getting sore, there is no point keeping the score anymore.