Sleeping through the snooze alarm…sleeping through the snooze alarm…sleeping through the snooze alarm…waking….
FAR TOO FUCKING LATE!
Another appointment missed, another chance gone.
Another day ruined. Another relationship done.
If you’re trying to sabotage yourself, Job done.
You knew you had to get up early, why’d you go to bed so late?
The night weren’t exactly jumping, the company weren’t that great.
Everyone telling stories, everyone’s already heard, it’s not as if anyone was hanging on your every word but, everyone heard you say “I’ll get another gram.”
Why do you behave like you’re the fucking man?
Porsche aspirations, pushbike pockets, belcher chains and hollow lockets.
Get a drink inside you and the rent can go to hell, that’s your money, you worked hard for it, everyone can tell…
The vultures gather round before you realise what’s gone down.
Half a gram is gone and everyone’s moved away, everyone wants to share but no one wants to pay.
The music stops, the lights come up. Someone’s nicked your drink, the barmaid you thought was flirting looks at you like you stink.
The barman tells you firmly it’s time for you to go, you think that you could ‘have him’ on another night though.
You pick your coat up from the floor and walk into the cold. The lines of coke, JD’s and pints begin to take their hold.
A wobble happens inside your head and in the world, the options begin quite slowly to unfurl…
Go home, save money, spend all, do more, go home, meet friends, make new ones, increase debt, go home, get more, do more, have a laugh, have a dance, have a line, have a pint….
Sleeping through the snooze alarm.