we hide all day 

creep out in the night 

creatures paralyzed by sunlight

We don’t do anything 

don't make decisions 

for worry of having the story written

the terror of commitment

We fear the ticking of the crocodile clock

the rapping of regret at the door

( from under the floor )

This grass is green but there could be more

to do, to see to understand 

( demand )

Get that dirt off your shoulders

we’re only getting older