If we have another day
It's been that sort of season
When I really couldn't say
It's not that this is atypical
But today was just that sort
Of unmittigated disaster
That makes life a bloody blood sport!
I'm not so into blood you know
As the wine and cracker kind
But I'm hanging by my fingernails
And found I have no spine.
I'd pull myself up by my socks
And slime along to bed
If I wasn't so very blinded
By seeing only red.
And it started such a good day
The dawn was very fine
But it's petered out to nothing
But a sense of wasted time.
Were you a wayward stranger
And I a hero unsung
We'd tarry off to Mexico
And have a bit of fun.
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