20 May 2012
I hate the morning after,
When you feel as sick as hell,
To be fair it's all my fault,
Why I did it I can't tell,
Because it's all about the fun,
Until that next morning,
When I lie in a heap on the bed,
Grumbling and yawning,
And the sickness builds in my insides,
And threatens my sore throat,
And the smell of booze and beer...
It surrounds me like a coat,
The memories tend to all rush back,
And taunt me as I pinken,
One thing I can tell you all:
Is I am done with drinkin'!
Hangover Blues. • Opuss № I