its twelve or nearabouts
the sleep is hereabouts
and as i settle for bed
i know what lies ahead
a day filled with losers, fuckers and louts.
good night all u bright young studs
and all u rosy dewy buds
its going to be the same old stew
so won't expect anything new
except new briefs and same old duds
dont wake me up with bright greetings
or with reminders of early morn meetings
i hate it all
what makes my flesh crawl
is that none of it is gonna be fleeting
i think it would be best
if u guys just go to goa fest
and make merry
dont forget ur black berry
and let poor writers like me just rest.
oh go on. night night.