sick of working

So damn sick of working with these fools,
Somehow little old me doing the work of two,
Miss Sandy and Amy sitting on their ass,
Wish I could leave but I need the cash,
Maybe Slakjack was right all along,
Staying in one place just feels so wrong.
I’m just killing time until the shift is done,
Gonna grab my board and have some fun,
Skating has become my drug of choice,
Being on the board makes my soul rejoice,
Questions and worries fall away,
Living life for real, just day-to-day.
It’s so simple, seems too much so,
Shutting off the mind and going with the flow,
Maybe I’ll move to Montana just for kicks,
Living only for my skateboard fix,
I’ll go snowboarding when the snow starts to fall,
But you and I know that I ain’t got the balls.
I live vicariously through so many of you,
Out there skating bowls, ramps and pools,
Trying to improve a little at a time,
But I know that I’m past my prime,
Stoke is something that can’t be quantified,
Even though sometimes it feels like suicide.
I can almost boneless up on the pyramid,
Getting a new trick makes me feel like a kid,
So many years and miles and regrets,
But I’m beginning to cleanse, beginning to forget,
Starting again almost with a clean slate,
Don’t think too much, just feels so flipn great.
I’m lowering my expectations and living my life,
There’s one person only that brings me strife,
It’s all on me and no one else,
Need to stop running away from my self,
So I guess Montana will just have to wait,
Cuz I need to work on getting my head straight.
Simple and uncomplicated even though I want otherwise,
Sometimes life needs to wake me up, make me recognize,
Reality check and bring me back down to earth,
Make me realize what this life is really worth,
There’s no amount of money that can make you great,
Only blood, sweat and tears if you wanna skate.
No hiding from yourself or the reality of the now,
No shortcuts, no game cheats, just the Tao,
Only I can live my life, no one else,
No matter how much I wanna put it on a shelf,
No yesterday, no tomorrow, just today,
A finger pointing only shows you the way.
We are servants of the board one and all,
Battered and bruised from taking our falls,
But the concrete is reality and sometimes bites,
Doesn’t stomach liars or fanciful types,
Too real for some but just enough for us,
Living on the edge until we return to the dust.
Life knocks you on your ass just like that,
Just like falling from the lip to the flat,
But you have to get back on that board,
Learn from your mistakes and keep moving forward,
Nothing worth having or doing comes easy,
But that’s the price we pay for being free.
I think I’ll shut up now and get on my way,
Plenty of sunlight left for me to play,
Hopefully I’ll stay on the board this time round,
Can’t really say I enjoy falling down,
But come what may, come tomorrow I’ll do it again,
A small price to pay for keeping me sane.