5 o'clock in the morning,
Stale cigarettes, my 2nd beer and a funk.
Tomorrow will come,
Whether i want it to or not.

This pain's been building up for a long time,
Since i was a young boy.
It's nothing to fear
And it's definitely nothing to feel sorry about.

But i do from time to time
When i'm at my weakest, physically.
Mentally tired.
Emotionally loathsome.

14 years ago i was brought to a man.
He told me i'd live to be 66
And even though he told me not to,
I've always believed him.

The fact that tomorrow is never here,
Yet is always coming
Always bothered me.
Impatient, i always wanted to see it.

Constantly in denial, constantly deceiving,
Usually myself.
And if he was here - He.
He would probably tell me to look forward to it...
					...look forward to it.