Why does it feel as if I’m always running for the bus?
Why can’t I lead a simpler life devoid of all this fuss?
Another meeting looms at work for which I’m unprepared
I should display my confidence, instead I’m slightly scared
My tax return is overdue, I’m certain to be fined
But it depends on documents that sadly I can’t find
The weeds control my flower beds, the grass is inches deep
Around the house the jobs pile up and all I want is sleep
Each night in bed I fret about the things I haven’t done
As deadline after deadline sucks my life of any fun
I mean to be more organised and practise self-control
But good intentions by themselves won’t dig me out this hole
A leopard cannot change its spots, the course is set for us
Somehow I’m destined to be always running for the bus