My papers are garbled
My mind is pumping iron
It's half then of eight on the clock.
My computer is laggard
My eyes are worn
It's the time for me to walk.
For dinner I'll be belated
My family will be soren,
For haveing staying late is no shock.
So, with my feet tendered,
I get my coat and don
And step out my office
With the final sound of a lock.
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