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about
Semi-inspired by some shared the-next-morning stories.
lyrics
Four-thirty Friday, it's been a long week.
Gonna get drunk, get something to eat.
Beer in my left hand, rye in my right. I think this'll be a good night.
It's morning, where am I? What time, what is place?
Ground's far below me, there's a squirrel in my face.
Try to get down but there's something holding me.
Seems I've belted myself to a tree.
Saturday arvo, feeling kinda gross.
Need coffee and bacon and a clean change of clothes.
Should get some rest, should really go home,
But should's a funny word you know.
It's morning, where am I? What time what is place?
Can't move my seat back, my legs have no space.
Things seem unfamiliar as my brain becomes unstuck,
I've woken in a strangers pickup truck.
If I go out Sunday night, I might end up in a fight.
Be found sleeping in the park, in the snow and in the dark,
A lot worse could happen to me than being belted to a tree...