Bloody Machine

Each morning as the clock struck seven,

He woke in a mess, then showered clean,

Clean shirt and tie, old worn out suit,

Got in his car and drove his usual route.

Each morning every morning he arrived on time,

He got his mail and signed on the line,

Never wavering from his daily routine,

Working to death like a bloody machine.

Over the hills and out of sight,

Nature did come forth and blossom,

In the warm spring sunlight.

But not for him.

Each morning as the clock struck seven,

He woke in a mess, then showered clean,

Clean shirt and tie, old worn out suit,

Got in his car and drove his usual route.

Each morning every morning he arrived on time,

He got his mail and signed on the line,

Never wavering from his daily routine,

Working to death like a bloody machine.