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
