Almost seven, on a Sunda’,

Settle down, to watch TV with wonder,

The words of wisdom, floating on the breeze,

But I can’t seem to see the wood for the trees,

 

Do I stay at home, I don’t know,

Or go outside, where I belong,

Play my marimba, ring my Mama,

Meet one parent, or stay at home?

 

Am I still furloughed, I’m a builder,

Trying to finish, a house with no winders!

It’s stark and dusty, it makes me want to cry,

Do I need my PPE, when I’m way up high?

 

Do I stay at home, I don’t know

Or go outside, where I belong,

Finish the winders, phone my Mama,

Meet both parents, or stay at home?

 

I hear his voice in the mornin’ hour, he calls me,

The radio reminds me of my work far away,

Drivin’ down the road, I get a feelin’

That I should’ve stayed home yesterday, yesterday,

 

Do I stay at home, I don’t know,

Or go outside, where I belong,

Cut up some timber, call my Mama,

meet a family member, or stay at home?

 

Take me home, down country roads,

I’m staying home, I’ve been furloughed!

 

Yee -haw!

*Apologies to John Denver

 

Lorraine Weightman


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