The weekend starts here, summery and light
It's the best time of year, makes us cheerful
There's hardly even such a thing as night
Makes the wine glass seem less empty, more full
Like the belly of the guy sitting all
Of five feet away, talking on the phone
My manager's started on the long haul
To Southport by train, eager to get home
And his manager, she wants to get goin'
We're all sick of our wage slavery plight
They want to be sat in their gardens, all
But me, who has no garden of his own
However, I'll make sure my evening's bright
I'll record some new songs, and learn them well
Fri 12 June 2009
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