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Mortal coil
Bedsit
Sit beside your bed
And wallow there please
The world doesn't want to see you today
Even you don't want to see you today
Oh god why does everything hurt
And why do I feel so crap
I hate mornings
If you love mornings
In my books
Sorry there is something wrong with you
Look at me
I look like some BTEC IKEA manifestation
Conjured up by some hack writer no doubt
The bells clang as my feet scrap across the carpet floor
Pick your feet up
You have to go to work soon
No dilly dallying
Wipe the mirror
Brush my teeth
Comb my hair (well what is left of it anyways)
Bite on some toast and kiss your nearest and dearest
And head to work
Work
Work
Work
Of course it is work
I have no pleasure in doing this or actually being here
God I hate my life
Would someone just please shot me now
Customer after customer after customer
Will this line ever stop
Stock up and go home
There is nothing here for you now
Just go home and forget the day you had and watch some good old stories on the box
And wash your mind away
Cooking dinner
Why is it always me
Oh well better get started
It is nearly half past three
Lost track of time
Lost track of my direction
I am sitting down and getting older
And my prospects aren't looking better
I am just getting fatter and fatter
And my time on this mortal coil is getting longer and longer
Stretching out to the ether
Losing all sense of meaning
Deflection and rejection
Wash down your sorrows and head to bed
To do this day all over again
Copyright ©
Martyn King
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