Oh the faces of the bored
Frozen blankly sleep is fought
Staring vaguely at the front
But dreaming soporific thought

Twenty minutes 'til the coffee
A bourbon or a custard cream
That's if the kids don't grab them first
And so we all daydream

Mavis peers at her watch
She nudges Joan and glances
The twenty minutes now have past
And forty people sit in trances

But suddenly a head is raised
Is this the application?
That 30 second indicator
We all regain sensation.