Dzisiaj jest: 12.11.2018

Teksty Piosenek > Workday

Sitting in the toilet reading the morning paper,
I skip past the news, turning to the TV guide;
I see the Playboy Late Show is on this evening:
Good thing I won't be feeling so lonely tonight.

No time for breakfast, got to get my coat and get going.
Damn the time, gonna be late again!
I ain't exactly cut out for manual labor,
But there's bills to pay so the point is moot.

I see the sun is shining down on the street,
But the cold wind and the puddles on the ground
Remind me that it's already late November.

I see an old lady walking an ancient dalmation;
The hair on her head is thinning, he's balding at the tail.
Wonder how I get to notice such weird things on my way,
When I've scarcely time to even turn my head.

Finally got to work, ready for the daily routine;
Six hours a day, five days a week,
It's a boring job, but I don't want to lose it,
So I'd better get myself to getting up earlier.

I see the sunlight sifting through the dirty window,
Its warm light shines down on my hand
And makes me wish that I were somplace else.

Quitting-time never-ever comes too early;
Gotta hurry up, I'll eat my lunch on the way.
By the time I get to school the sun is already setting,
By the time I leave, it's already gone.

Evening classes always get me yawning.
So why can't I sleep when I get back home?
Might as well turn on the tube and hop into bed,
Nothing better to do tonight anyway.

The cold light from the TV screen is shining down on my bedsheet;
I'd really feel alright
If it weren't for this pain behind my eyes.