while i sip my expensive coffee

I ask my self, what am I doing?

Act like a thief
crawl into my own house
In the middle of the night

Wake up noon
While nobody see

And I believe they who are not understand
Will judge me lazy

The sun, the beaches, and holidays
Were my best friends
Until I have to sweat and pledge on my knees
on public holidays

Oh well this isn't me
I am not taking order
Nor willingly pleasing strangers that being called as a king sincerely
Since I am the bossy kind

Oh well probably maybe
This is what I have to get through
Until I heard my true calling

And now here I am waiting
frowning and complaining
wandering what my life would be after i left this hell
Over a tumbler of the most expensive coffee and pastries
that I wish could make me feel any better and lucky