Ah, Monday morning, time to swing into action. A new week.
Lots to do. Gotta stop sitting around and letting life pass by.
Or I might cry. Get high. Wonder why?
Thinking of all the things I need to do.
My head spins. So much. Big sigh.
Good thing I'm young and able,
must leave the table.
Shake my sorry arse, rouse,
first, I gotta leave the house.
Out into the wind, rain and sea,
um, no, just the wind, rain and me.
I'd rather climb up a tree,
sit a boy on my knee,
but, into the car,
don't have to go far.
Look after my ma.
She’s getting old,
not long, I’m told.
Then I’ll be an orphan of time,
have a lot on my hands.
How to fill my Monday mornings?
New life dawning.
As I wave her good bye,
I wonder why,
we all have to get old and die?
There must be a better way
to end our lives?
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