Got this feeling that today doesn't like me. Or the air tastes like flowers and paint. There's a sink full of bottles and cutlery. And the car has got a list of complaints.
Now the lounge is full of farmers. For the 7:30 draw. Teammates all left. Before they had to buy a round. . When they pull the 50/50. And I've lost again, I'll go.
In the stick count for the song. Of knowing you're gone. Glancing up at where you lived. When you lived here. . I see you suddenly alive. And nearly smiling.
My confusion corner commuters. Are cursing the cold away. As December tries to dissemble. The length of their working day. . And they bite their mitts off.