I am tired with the word what do you do for a living
A question whose answer will take you away from me
Because I am not productive enough
Yes I have not collected much stones recently
Like penguins do on an island
But they collect one or two just for fun
All you do is work, work
And yes you are the master of stones

Tomorrow you will be there
Another boring face
With the same attitude
Judging me why I have not collected
Much stones recently

I do the most boring job
On earth
And I am not changing my ways.

While I stretch
You frown
As i take a walk
You run
For what?
Where is it we are going?
There is nothing except for death
Waiting for us.

What will you say on your last day
What will you do with all those stones you gathered
Even dogs do not eat them
Don't you see the futility of existence
We are here to enjoy 2 hours
And then go back to where we came from.