but it's just stress
weekends can never be nice because
you've had to work, work, work,
despite your own wants
forced into throwing away days
for throwing bags out and away
saturday is for making
sunday is for delivering

friday's my only chance to get out
but even then i'm trapped with a man
who doesn't comprehend a word i say
he looks at me curiously
as though he wants to ask
but he is prideful, like me, like our grandfather
and he just turns his head

then it's back to work,
wake up, go to school, come home
work, repeat that process over and over again
make sure it's set in stone, this routine of yours
back to back to back to back
this train'll never keep on track
it's off