24*8

 

Just as the world never ceases to rotate,

For 7 days I will abide by my fate.

No more, no less.

 

But when the Sun will go down,

And Sunday will start to drown,

8th day shall come around.

 

And that shall be my day,

For 24 hours it will stay,

And fill me with hope.

 

There shall be no laws,

For what crimes shall I do alone?

8th day of the week, my own.

 

I will sip some tea and break bread,

Music will be played in the sky,

Deserted world will no longer be sad.

 

No words shall I utter,

To my mind shall I listen to.

On the 8th day of the week, I will meet you.