Cold meat, processed cheese, making my lunch for another day*
Rolled up sleeves
Empty sheets
No one in my bed to sleep with anyway
And at work I find no reward to adore, and after driving home
I cannot help but work some more
Mostly favors of art because I'm poor
Yet no matter how busy I like to keep
I always manage to find some time
To stray into topics too often, too deep
Like what it would be like to be with her in mind
Though most every night I see my brothers, whisk their brides to be away
*It's with every dawn that I am reminded, that my life will not always be this way
Just a simple Single Man's Remind