Every day, I exchange pleasantries with coworkers but we rarely try to give each other something to hold onto, a real connection once in a while, rather than the "how's it going?" we bounce off each other. Sometimes it seems like we should be saying, "look, I'm not an asshole, but I don't have anything to say to you."
This is a perfect Monday song, but really it's an everyday song. All Monday long I want to fast forward or drift into a haze and float on by, getting a little closer to home time or to the next weekend.
My preferred plans and expectations are usually tied up in some moment in the future, a weekend trail run, or Christmas vacation visiting my family, and anything could happen to rip those expectations apart in a moment. Ferris Bueller and Bob Mould say, stop to smell the roses, or they might end up on you.
Chorus #2 (sort of):
Chorus #2 (sort of):
Expectations only mean you really think you know
What's coming next, and you don't
What's coming next, and you don't
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