Becoming Friday Night

On a Friday night I sit down

For a smoke and a strum,

I look across my bed

And it dawns:

I sleep with

Tools, textbooks and truth-tables.

What love could be higher?

It's okay if it lets me down,

It doesn't need counselling

When it's disposed of,

But it's teaching us its ways,

Which are the ways of

What we create...

The ways of

What we create

Are teaching us their ways

Which are the ways of

What we create

We become

What we create

We become