And as you wait for the subway,
Your typical morning,
Hair drying in the subway stream,
Wife at home sleeping away,
You wonder if this is what you’re living for.
The long hours
For numbers on paper
To keep the woman,
Your third ‘true love’, happy.
As your kids grow to hate you
because they never see you
And only know you didn’t follow your dreams
and you hate your job.
Whatever it is
You lost your friends somewhere along the way
Sometimes you remember their names
But the faces blur
and you worry when you do,
If you do see them again
The faces will all be wrong
Aged, old, unhappy yet still better than yours
Happier and more successful
Your memories start to come back
of days where you didn’t have to wait.
The train pulls up
Packed to the doors like always
Yet you smile, as the routine continues.