Head Workers

© Jaimey Perham 06/9/2010

Thousands of workers in my head

Keeping my mind from going dead

Sparking the cells and capping the treads

Punches in when memory is blocked

Only breaks when dreams are stocked

Consciousness locked, space and time clocked

They are called the head workers, they work at night

They are referred by strangers, they like to fight

They answer to nobody, except gods will and might

They are called the head workers, and are for your own delight

If you have a troubled thought that quickly disappears

And all of the sudden silence replaces fear

Then the drilling in your brain is creating tears

So the only thing left to do is have faith and to trust

The things that clean the mental black rust

Because in the end they will sweep away that dust

They are called the head workers, they work at night

They are referred by strangers, they like to fight

They answer to nobody, except gods will and might

They are called the head workers, and are for your own delight…