Eleven AM I wake up
Twelve PM I’m still stuck
On the edge of my bed
Like a hood ornament in pyjamas
I should have a shower or breakfast at least
But I think we’re out of milk and there’s only crusts left
And I don’t want anymore hairs on my chest
I know I had really grand plans for today
But I’m a snooze button junkie getting high on delay
Morning is well and truly broken
And Cat Stevens has changed his name

And I’ve got six different things to do lists
Hidden around my room
Please tell me
What am I supposed to be doing?
What Am I supposed to be doing?

I’ve got emails to not reply to calls to put off making
Bills to suppress and some appointment to think briefly about
But then I can’t find that bit of paper
I’ve got resumes to print out and write lyrics on the back of
Washing to orbit my room with and
Gigs to think hard about probably never getting round to ever actually looking for
I dream of genie in my water bottle
Someone specialising in admin and PR
To come along and start kissing me slowly behind the neck
Y’know and getting me gigs and shit

Cos life offers you more choices than Subway
I don’t know what salads or dressings
I want on my sandwich of destiny
I could start a novel
Start a charity
Start a small business course
And take the first baby steps towards
Starting a multi-national global franchised corporation
Or I could just have a ciggie and a cup of tea
Nine PM yeah where’s the day gone?
I didn’t get my things to do list done
But I did make a mixed tape for my cousin


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