Misty morning,
coffee and regrets.
A fuzzy head,
and bleary eyes,
a pocket full of crumpled bets.
The traffic worse than ever
as time flies.
Sweaty palms, a pounding head,
searching for a cigarette.
And every light I'm hitting now is red,
its days like this I should have stayed in bed.
The mornings now,
the darkness and the rain,
the way the days are flying by,
each one seeming just the same.
I guess its just that time of year again
as winter comes and swallows everything.
I swallow down my coffee with my pride
until the spring I guess I'm gonna hide.
.