You wake up so late,
You had just not ate.
The hangover from the previous night,
And the sun shining in your face so bright.
Time has slowed down,
Your face carries a wide frown.
Your friends shake you awake,
But the best you can do is fake.
You win the battle against your bed,
Walking like a warrior half dead.
You have a long day,
But only 12 hours left at your bay.
The tap water hits your face,
In the mirror, at yourself you gaze.
Slouching, you stand in muse,
Hey Boy! It’s just the Sunday Morning Blues!