Score Four Me

Floating in anomie,

Anonymous in the morning,

Powerless against the tyranny

Of the alarming clock.

[Modellers, never forecasters,

Mathematics has won!

Dictating that many masters
Be more free than the one.

Il n'y a pas plus de confort,

In lieu, many will not see.

It's why I still smile wry in the street

Bidding you hello-adieu.

Just like I said goodbyes,

Like a short while ago,

To philistine monies for eyes

I gouge out to survive each day.

Sucks, at the age of twenty four

I hear a hungry tsetse fly

Singing that idyllic lullaby,

Right outside my wooden door.

It says, "Your feet are pressing sand,

Watching the waves arrive.

Undressing child, your heroes swim!

Prim as proper, you too will dive."]