"When the afternoon sun
Comes and wakes me up,
I will ask myself
'Have I slept enough?'"
And you know what, Mike?
That answer's tough
And usually no
Cuz its pretty rough
To always know
I'm always wrong,
It makes me tired
And makes me long
For bushes on fire
To sing their songs
Or whatever the ****
Else comes along,
And that's why I stay
In bed all day
In my sleeping attire
Feeling gone
And letting the sun
Rise and fall
While I hide under covers
And ignore it all,
The fun of others
And plastic lovers
Or even ones
Of porcelain,
Either way I guess I'd win
If I could make another
Come for a swim
In this sea
Of blankets
I've been trapped in.