A stream of people come flowing

From their working and their chores.

Their faces straight and stubborn,

With bags under their eyes

Another monotonous weekday

Has passed by in their lives.

The sounds of trams and trains and carts

The pitter-patter of tired feet

Just wanting the day to be over

So they can stop and eat and sleep.

There’s only one destination

One place they want to go

They just want to get home

But then again they know

The sooner they do get there

The sooner they’ll go to bed

And so starts another day on Collins St

Filled with major dread.