It’s eight pm and I am still at work Building machines, have I gone berserk ? No work on the camper in over a week A holiday at Easter is looking bleak My partner alone, at home, poor creature To remind her of me she has asked for a picture The boss has left he is going to dinner What about us? We are just getting thinner The team and I, we just ramble on The time we spend here, forever gone To finish on time, management is wishing As for some of us here, we would rather be fishing I think of the machine when I am supposed to be sleeping No proper drawings, the problems just heaping thoughts of steam valves and tangled pneumatics I think we are becoming machine fanatics Being motivated by irrational enthusiasm my brain is starting to go into spasm maybe there is light at the end of the tunnel or is it a a train heading towards us to pummel