Turning Four
I believe my pain to be unique
And that goddamn cuckoo goes off at five AM again.
Wallstreet Journal read by seven
And that same goddamn day goes on and on,
Keep swearing to myself that one of these days
(It was my child's birthday the other day,
than all other pain.
Sometimes I keep myself up all night
trying to figure out the point
of going on anymore.....
Get up, you lousy sonofabitch
and get your ass in that shower
write your days agenda in your brain.....
mail opened by eight
five minute shit between meetings
phone calls returned by two
write a memo by eleven
lunch at noon....
just like the movie Groundhog Day.
I'd stop after that second cup of coffee
quit smoking at my next birthday
give up alcohol for lent....
so my wife told me.
She turned four, so I was told.)