She's always as busy as bees in their hives.
To do all she does requires eight or nine lives,
But she has to fit it all into just one.
The start of each day is a legally-held gun,

And Ruth is the bullet, aimed at the night,
Merely a blur through hours of daylight.
If aimed right she'll end up embedded in bed.
While being re-loaded, the lights in her head

Illuminate scenes of her lightning-quick days,
Slow-motion dreams, glacial plays
That often contain some message or warning
Which she forgets when she's shot into morning.

Her dreams often tell her to look where she's going.
Of what lies ahead she has no way of knowing.
While on the phone to her young sister Meg
She trips on a step and she breaks her right leg.

Her leg's in a cast so she can't jog or run.
With crutches her days are no longer a gun.
They're more like a straight-forward delicate putt.
A stream of routine that flows into a rut.

She's forced into sitting for hours on her lawn.
Her days are a sketch with faint lines badly drawn.
They used to be paintings exploding with colour,
And interesting details, but they've become duller

Than rain-bearing clouds or watered-down stout,
Or a brain wearing boredom controlling a mouth,
Telling it endless small tales full of filler.
They're avant garde films. The past starred Ben Stiller.

She's forced into talking to her next-door neighbour.
Listening to him is a form of hard labour.
It's worse than a walk with her crutches and cast.
The present's reluctant to enter the past,

Refusing to leave like a president who
Becomes a dictator. His citizens rue
The day they elected this unpleasant fool.
They're sick of the sight of his face and his rule.

Or like teenagers hanging around in a mall,
A motionless, menacing Cold War-like brawl.
Slightly Hitlerian in their adolfescence,
With burgeoning hatreds and uniform dress sense.

But back to the neighbour. Niall is his name.
He's happy that this summer day is the same
As all its ancestors and days yet to be.
All yesterdays come from a family tree.

He loves his routine. It helps keep him sane.
He acts in a setting of sunshine or rain.
The script never changes. He knows it by heart.
He's very convincing when playing this part.

She asks him if he's ever taken a chance
And risked ending up in a field without pants.
He talks about Jane, an old flame from his teens,
Who's still in his head in some action-filled scenes.

They loved each other. It made his friends jealous.
He once had to climb to her window on trellis.
He got the wrong window and caused some distress
On catching a glimpse of her mother undress,

A scene that he'd gladly erase from his mind.
He'd give his right arm for a way to rewind.
She called the police and he swiftly took flight.
He hasn't seen Jane since that terrible night.

Ruth is determined to help out her neighbour,
Despite his spectacular fear of her favour.
He comes close to fainting when she tells him that
She plans to unite him with Jane for a chat.

For Ruth it's the dose of excitement she needs.
On drama and personal crises she breathes.
Despite his objections she finds Jane's address.
His script is destroyed in the whirlwind of stress.

He feels that his fate's at the mercy of dice
When Ruth presents him with this simple choice:
Go there with her or she'll go on her own.
It goes without saying he fears the unknown.

He shudders when thinking of what Ruth might say.
He enters a new and unique summer day.
He goes to see Jane with a woman on crutches
Who's somehow ensared him in her evil clutches.

She rings the doorbell. He takes a deep breath.
He soon sees a face he could never forget.
But sadly the face is not Jane's. It's her mother.
Whatever she's thinking it triggers a shudder.

Niall runs away. He just wants to hide.
Ruth stays behind. She's invited inside.
According to her, Niall's her employer.
He pays her a fortune and often he'll fly her

All 'round the world on his own private jet.
She's lost track of all the world leaders she's met.
News of his wealth brings a swift re-assessment.
His sight of her state of partial undress meant

The mother was rash in allowing her brain
Assume he's a criminal and then convince Jane
That he's like her uncle whose clothes conceal ferrets.
But now she's determined to highlight his merits.