Broke boys club,
We all got the
Job centre sadness.
We all witnessed
Them move the goal post,
And never tell us the rules.
So welcome to,
Job centre sadness,
Forget dreams,
They don't pay the rent.
Just got to make it to payday,
Just got to streach out
What we got.
Make it do,
Another appointment
At the job centre,
Feels like it could destroy you.
Got the blocked nose blues,
Born guilty.
Call the girls again,
And tell them dail a drink is on their way.
And we'll keep the curtains shut.
Don't worry about Monday.
Anyone a phone charger?
Anyone care?
The best of a bad bunch..
Trying to keep the weekend going,
Abusing our serotonin,
Sharing in hope for a kiss.
In hope not to miss.
Fear of missing out,
And I can't resist.
One more hit,
Just to help me sleep.
Sunday dinner is going to need extra gravy.
I always think I need to stop,
Because I don't know when to stop.
And it's hard to sort myself out.
When the weekend comes and takes me out.
Tonight Mathew,
Well I'm my own worse nightmare.
Peaked too soon,
Let the dogs out.
Left myself with some awful doubts.
Swear on my hair,
The taxi is late.
From introvert to your best mate
In two liters of ciders time.
Then melter who would be best left behind.
So I wanna kill the clown in me.
But that can wait another week.
Posts
All Comments
