Jim van den Bos
This mess is a group effort
All contributed to this chaos
Now this mountain stands before me
How did I get here alone
It shouldn’t be my burden
Some help would be nice
Now groveling through grime
I am pushing it yet again
I’m thinking about my life
Scrutinizing my decisions
Getting my hands dirty
Only slaving so it’ll be over
Time heals all wounds
The dread has dispersed
My actions instrumental
A slow pain in my lower back
I wash my hands clean
And dry the surface
The muck has vanished
All our slates are clean
Oh, I hate to do the dishes