Speak of labor, toil under the sun
did I slack off opportunity
thinking I was just the one
No matter how I sift through
every choice with such a tiny comb
I cannot find another path
that doesn't, too, blow up my home
ready for labor
or I say I am
just confused
helpless little lamb
just worn out
such a trying day
just working up the courage
or so I say oh so I say
speak of labor, shut up and do
What else can I hope
but something turns up true
Because I've never understood
the trick of knowing how
to tease the devil from the details
to set down then and get with now
what
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