Hey ho not paid again,
Or paid for two days working ten
But my books stack up higher higher
Words writ hot like ice or fire
Still, figures n’ cheques swirl round my head
While I’m snug reading tucked up in bed
For my breakfast think I’ll beg or borrow
But go sleep now – work tomorrow.
Thinking would not mind right now, if every line to the book in front me, came with a wild storm and a twisted sea,; Summer soon and the desert winds still heat this night.