Saturday, half past nine, 29 friends of mine
Couple of coffee pots, no smoking allowed
Leftover sandwich cremes, mending our broken dreams
These are our weekly themes

Taking our turns to talk, learning to walk the walk
No graduation here, this is clear

Someone has raised their hand, they must be new 'cos all you do
Is take your turn when it comes round to you
That’s when you say your peace, finish and keep your seat
Then wonder if what you said made sense to anyone

Taking our turns to talk, learning to walk the walk
No graduation here, this is clear

One and a quarter hours, searching for higher powers
Powers that offer up some sanity
We make our decisions here, everything changes
That’s so clear to anyone brave enough to take a step

Taking our turns to talk, learning to walk the walk
No graduation here, this is clear

That’s all the time we have, please put the chairs all back
Unplug the coffee pots, rinse out your mug
Climbing down 19 stairs, back to our cars
Or maybe the bus stop, just a few blocks down

Taking our turns to talk, learning to walk the walk
No graduation here, this is clear