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Sunday, 26 April 2015

Day Twenty Six

I drive past the church of complexity
They meet at ten and eleven a.m.
Every Sunday and sometimes on Monday
That’s it they go back to work when they're done

They're franked and stamped they're wrapped and packed away
Except for the odd Thursday once a month
Or is it every fortnight or six weeks
I don’t really pay that much attention

But lately it seems they've got more robots
They just stand in the car park getting wet
I do hope that they don’t get too rusty
I was a rusty robot once myself

They put me in the shop window to sell
No one bought me I didn't look too well


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