It's 1 o'clock
And it's the same thing every night
I've got work in the morning.
And it's the one thing that seems to fill my days.
Friends are out of town, as it's vacation season after all
My good buddy is out in Edmonton, miles away(more) He's like a brother to me
Working hard, making a ton of money.
He's got the right idea
My dream idea
Leave this place where we're too caught up
In our own plans
Work, work, work
That's all we care to do
And we never take a moment to ourselves.
"All work and no play..." - yeah, you've heard it.
Someday, I'll be gone
To a land of lower stress levels and property taxes
Where pushing paper is secondary
To personal well-being.
Such a place seemingly exists in my mind
But it will be a victory in and of itself if I can find it
Somewhere out there.
It's disheartening, really
As I sit and fill cyberspace with my half-baked ramblings
Dreading an inevitable rude awakening in six hours
I can't help but wonder:
What (Where) is the fine line between work and play?
The search has cost me so many beautiful things
In this lifetime that I can't forget
If that's the case
I hope I don't spend the rest of my life searching for it.