A day in the life

It’s one of those days

And I drag myself from bed

I drag myself to the bathroom

Drag a comb across my head

Along the hall for a breakfast fag

The whole of bloody life’s a drag

No need to shave. No need to fuss.

No need to run to catch the bus.

No place to go and nowt to do:

That’s my entry in “Who’s Who?”

I’m parked on a bench with nettles and litter,

Feeling worthless – feeling bitter,

Reading second-hand news from a thrown-away rag.

Think back to the guy in the blood-stained Jag.

Who, looking forward in despair,

With no-one to love and none to care,

Thought it time to make the grade.

Can you deny the choice he made?

And still the headlines read the same

And still we kill and still we maim.

10,000 times I’ve seen that news before

And wonder what the fighting’s for.

And in the end, when push comes to shove,

Can we really change the world with love?

Perhaps he was the lucky one

But I can’t afford a car – and I haven’t got a gun.

And still it takes 4000 holes

To fill the bloody Albert Hall.

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