I'm sitting here on the couch
Mug in hand, spliff in mouth
And I think to myself,
"things are good".

Things aren't great,
but things aren't bad.
There is no real reason
Why I should be sad.

Though I haven't a penny,
Nickle or dime
I have a roof and a cat
Who's getting a touch fat
So why the hell am I crying?

I have a passion, a drive
That's been left unfulfilled
And I want to, so badly
Be thrilled.

To sit here and stagnate
To 'moss' if you like
Leaves me wanting
To scream
I don't, I'm polite.

My neighbours are people
With problems like me
From doubting their life
To forgetting the key.

So I'll be quiet
And I'll not make a sound
I'll watch a funny video
And I'll eventually come 'round.

Though, the future scares me
It brings many things:
From ups to downs,
Smiles to frowns,
From terrifying clowns,
To nights out on the town,
And hopefully, plenty of *****
That are gorgeously round.

So I've got to rally
Be in good form
They say it gets better
Or it is always wetter
Before the eye of the storm.