• Saturday comes and stays and my mind starts to slowly slip away.
    The wind blows the trees and the sun shines its gleam but my blues still take the stage.
    The shadows whisper and make me sway, they cruelly laugh at my dismay.
    I sit and cry while others laugh,
    I wither away while others thither and play
    Yet here I mope and hope all day that soon this gloom will go away
    For all i long is to hear them to say wont you also come out to play?
    But no one does and i'm forced to stay inside these walls on a Saturday.
    Shall my lonely day continue this way?
    Shall all my Saturdays be this way?
    Or perhaps they will come and ask me to play.