Scared And Unheard

Sunburnt, sorry for myself, lost in holiday-making,
the only challenge is making peace with myself,
no obstacle to overcome, no problem except de-
ciding what to eat when, going to the beach and
surviving the heat while you give the sea a wide
berth; why on earth did you want to come if this
is how you feel - at least the kids are having fun

Found a friend to hang out with, playing pool while
I gather the clothes to be washed, watch the cars
passing in the street - wondering how I fell into the
trap of holiday-spirit without the power to survive, I
am just like Marvin, the paranoid Android – at work
I fear those long documents, here I fear the lack of
challenges – it is my theory that I cannot die

For fear that when dead I would be bored and make too
much noise in the afterlife realm - boredom would send
me to the wrong frequency where those depressed and
cynical souls lurk – an eternity being depressed would be
hell indeed, maybe I should learn to sing loud and long in
the street like Edith Piaf did, instead of singing softly to my-
self as I always do, maybe it would develop my voice

Maybe I could sing for my life instead of driving my family
wild - but given my Marvin-like propensities and complete
inability to be wild and inconsiderate; I suppose singing
will remain in the domain of the scared and unheard…