That this day I should wake
To feel like doing nothing at all
More to the point
That I should feel altogether capable
Of doing absolutely nothing at all
And here we are, at lunchtime
Still with the confidence, and desire
To do nothing, nothing whatsoever
Meanwhile their scoreboard
Ticks along nicely
Mine, in sublime contrast
Remains perfectly still
And so it goes, on, and on
A full afternoon of doing nothing at all
But, can I make it past tea
Does eating afternoon tea, or dinner, count
As doing nothing at all
Then what of the evening
Watching Nordic Murders
On ALL4 with Walter Presents
I would say, most definitely doing nothing
Indeed going perfectly nowhere at all
