MORNING BLUE’S.
It’s daybreak agen when I wake up yawning,
And I stagger to bathroom on a cold ‘n’ misty morning.
If I’m reight in thinking I have to head due south,
Wi mi eyes stuck together and no teeth in’t mouth.
My poor heart’s racing as I enter bathroom door,
As I pop in’t false choppers mi first daily chore.
Then I wash mi face and force mi eyes open to see,
In’t mirror on’t wall a dishevelled old me.
I head off down stairs feeling rather glum,
Hoping for a hearty breakfast for mi rumbling tum.
But when I get down to kitchen mi dear wife said,
“You’ll have to settle for some toast ‘n’ jam instead”.
But I said, that’s no breakfast for a workingman,
Having to go and work on toast and jam.
Every morning it’s the same old news
It’s no wonder I suffer from Morning Blue’s.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
It’s daybreak agen when I wake up yawning,
And I stagger to bathroom on a cold ‘n’ misty morning.
If I’m reight in thinking I have to head due south,
Wi mi eyes stuck together and no teeth in’t mouth.
My poor heart’s racing as I enter bathroom door,
As I pop in’t false choppers mi first daily chore.
Then I wash mi face and force mi eyes open to see,
In’t mirror on’t wall a dishevelled old me.
I head off down stairs feeling rather glum,
Hoping for a hearty breakfast for mi rumbling tum.
But when I get down to kitchen mi dear wife said,
“You’ll have to settle for some toast ‘n’ jam instead”.
But I said, that’s no breakfast for a workingman,
Having to go and work on toast and jam.
Every morning it’s the same old news
It’s no wonder I suffer from Morning Blue’s.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
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