Well the day could start with a bump to the head
But not quite enough that it fills you with dread
Maybe your ceilings collapsed in a heap
But it leaves the rewards of the stars to reap
Your door could be lost, or the floor or the walls
But now you can listen to the morning bird’s call
Maybe your desk has waddled away, but hey the
Old thing deserves a good day!
The clock could be ticking your hours away
But better late than never, that’s what they say!
The shower runs cold, but good old Jack Frost
He’ll slash the electric and cut down the cost
Your clothes are all small, but the nineties is back
With vintage and retro and the best music tracks
The mirror has cracked but no worry of luck
It’s another seven years of life, so who gives a fuck?
Slipped down the stairs, my arse is red raw
But hey saved me the walk to get out of the door
But wait just a tick, myself I could kick,
For forgetting my boost, the days only roost to jolt me awake
The craving the taste, the itch it’s a bitch
Of sweet syrup sugar of red white delight
And…. To what is behold? A shelf without none?
What in the hell? I swore I had one!
The fridge is rammed; but my coke is all gone!
I’m withered, I’m done
Nothing more than a shadow, to fittingly flutter
Goddamn this day and its inherent stutter!