Spinning Plates - Middleman

My early morning dreams don’t matter and seem jocular,

shattered as the letterbox clatters like the outside world just spat at me.

See, I’m popular with credit card companies

final-warning me I can’t afford to live comfortably.

There’s bills for gas, tax and electric

can’t expect my clothes to wash themselves,

responsibility’s kicked in.

Dust gathers on the shelves, pots pile up in the kitchen,

I don’t want to just survive on a nine-to-five

there’s something missing.

I thought I’d paint a masterpiece,

I thought I’d swim the English Channel,

thought I’d firework my way through life

or be a human cannonball.

But I’m too busy spinning plates,

getting dizzy but can’t stop in case one breaks.

My nine-to-five's an eight-to-six

and by the time I’ve made the trip to work and back,

sat in traffic, I’m exhausted.

Fuming at the thought of a life led hand to mouth,

just consuming’s not enough, I know there’s more to it.

I need to do the things I love, that make me buzz to my core.

I need more free time, but I can’t afford it.

I thought I’d be an Olympian, thought I’d write the next great novel,

thought I’d stride across continents and laugh at any obstacle.

But no, cause I’m too busy spinning plates,

getting dizzy but can’t stop in case one breaks.

No, I’m much too busy spinning plates,

getting dizzy but can’t stop

just in case one breaks.

I’m spinning plates, I’m losing patience.

It’s so mundane with this same rotation.

Stuck in a loop, but I can’t stop in case I break one.

No, I’m too busy spinning plates,

but can’t stop in case one breaks.

No, I’m much too busy spinning plates,

but can’t stop in case one breaks.