Monday is dawning, so sunny and sweet
My whole life before me, the world at my feet
A thousand amusements laid out on display
A thousand adventures to fill up my day
If there wasn't just one small thing in my way...
I could fly to the moon on a hot air balloon
And become a mooncalf cavalier
I could sail through the night to that haunting green light
And climb up upon the pier
I could walk on the moor with my tormented thoughts
And my coat-tails afloat in the wind
I could sit in my chair in the smoke-scented air
Playing plaintive violin
All the adventures I could have if I weren't here
And all the intentions I've assembled year on year
If I didn't have to go to work
I could sit there and think with a bottle of ink
And a goose-feather quill in my fist
I could grumble and gripe, at a typewriter type
Of the worlds that don't exist
I could lie on a couch with a pipe in my mouth
And a mind full of visions and veils
I could haunt the saloons seeking tormented tunes
On the trail of half-heard tales
All the ideas I could give the gift of life
They fall on dead ears, for I haven't got the time
'Cause instead I have to go to work
I could do nothing - sweet celestial nothing
I could sit in the bath, read a novel and laugh at you all
Just watching you run at society's beck and call
Bless your souls
In our world of action, where we're worth the things we make
The biggest infraction is to sit and cogitate
If I didn't have to go
(Oh, but I still have to, though)
But I wish I didn't go to work