In the comfort of this bed I lay,
the lack of a morning alarm setting a slow-pace
as I ponder on what to do with the day.
The year being cancelled as it may,
I’m now unessential in the rat-race
and so in the comfort of this bed I lay.
It isn’t all bleak and grey where I stay,
But in spiritual isolation, I too, stare into space
And ponder on what to do with the day.
The clock moves slow but the mind runs astray
In the race of time, we’ve lost our pace
And thus, in the comfort of our bed we lay.
We roam as lonely vessels, the safety of land at bay
In the capitalist world we’ve quit the chase
And now ponder on what to do with the day.
Float in solitude knowing the stars shall point the way
And that you have been blessed by grace.
For in the comfort of your bed you stay,
Privileged to ponder on what to do with the day.