Slow Down - Dr. Syntax

It seems like certain people need to slow down

Sit and zone out, but they don’t know how

They’re burning loads of pounds

But I’m in no doubt

Burn the candle both ends

It’ll get blown out

Can you really see Synners

Getting down to some big-cheese business?

Every month, holding more than three figures

I’ve seen that scene

And that scene seems vicious

Keen-witted mean-spirits

Fiending for riches, me

I couldn’t deal with it

I’ll sooner be seen swimming

In deep rivers wearing concrete slippers

It’s wrong that I should feel privileged when

Given a fleeting glimpse of free living once my weeks finished

Maybe I’m one of those weak quitters

But I can’t work all day

And only rest for fifteen minutes

Eating TV dinners

Steady trying to keep diligent

Thinking of my annual beach visit

So ask me what I’m doing instead, just

Scooping a bit of bread and butter

While pursuing interests

And you might think I’m stupid

As a foolish inbred

Used to sittin' on a stoop

With a group of pissheads

But it’s rare that my mood is intense

'Cuz I created a relaxing ambiance

Without using incense

So accuse me while using a pertruding index

'Cuz it’s true that I’m a loser

With his future in shreds

But I produce a sick text

When I use a Bic pen

Something in me ticks

Like a superhuman sixth sense

Observing life through a thick lens

Watching steadily

Using time to rest

Thus preserving my longevity

It’s Tuesday night, man

I’m craving spliff and hot food

But not more than pound a drink

And shit pop tunes

A lot lost to the work-drink work-drink

Puzzled punters glugging jugs

To make the words fit (What?)

A something always

Tugging at the purse-strings

And now they’re sloppy 'round the edges

Like a first kiss

I’m not the worst;

it’s

Just a casual pastime

Nothing serious

Just here to drink the bar dry

Chuckle at our troubles as they shrink into the dark night

Follow my reflection as it’s sinking

With my last pint

We’re on the brink of being

Victims of the far right

But can’t resist because we’re

Twisted by this fast life

I drifted in from last night

Thinkin' how it’s

A little bit odd that we see time as a commodity

When if a man was lost at sea

Without a clock to read

Imprisoned by his prophesy

Allowing his return upon

Accomplishment of odyssey

He could quite possibly

Arrive to find the hand had only moved from one to three

Think about it logically

Or don’t if you’re too busy

But choose quickly

'Cuz pretty soon they’ll be selling special

Seconds of your life online for 2.50

Who’s with me?!

Nah, I thought not

'Cuz then you’d have to slow down

And if I’m really honest with you

Then I couldn’t go now

Just leave with no sound

Like this life was worth nothing;

All possessions thrown down

Possessions thrown down

Possessions thrown down

Possessions thrown down

Possessions thrown down, down, down