My eyes they cry, my joints they squeak, I hobble around on little broken feet.  My stomach hurts, my head it spins, I go to bed just to get up again.  I’m tired of life but the options suck, my life is screwed but it was I that mucked up.  My wallet is thin, my body is fat and there is no one else I can blame for that.  I hate to work, I can’t afford play, and I wish that night was the same as day.  My heart she pounds but I don’t really care but I guess today I should wash my hair.  There goes my 8:01 alarm; my first collection call of this brand new dawn.  Oh you eff’n cats get off my sore feet;

I’d like to try for an hour more sleep