Intellectual Suicide
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Intellectual Suicide
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Sitting here waiting, completely in vain.
What will be said is "come back again".
But I know full well tomorrow's too late,
For I cannot be there by a quarter past eight.
And so I sit here with nothing to do
But untie my laces and retie my shoe.
Waiting is one thing I just cannot bear.
After twentyeight minutes I find I despair.
Seeking for guidance I know I won't find.
But I need it.
You can give it.
Oh, don't be so blind.