The Real Damage

I woke up on a sofa in an unfamiliar house,

Surrounded by sleeping folks that I didn’t know.

On failing to find my friends, I decided that it was clearly time to go.

So I made my way out of the door as quietly as I could –

There was no one there I knew to say goodbye –

Squinting in the sadly sobering sunshine of the Sunday morning light.

I started the night with all my friends and I ended up alone,

Oh yes I started out so happy now I’m hung-over and down.

It was about then that I realized I was half-way through

The best years of my life.

So I scanned the local landmarks, trying to find out where I was,

And maybe even find a bus back home.

I was longing for a shower, and for clean sheets, and a charger for my phone.

And suddenly it hit me that I got paid this Friday last

And so I rifled through my pockets for some change.

But all I found was a packet of broken cigarettes and sinking sense of shame.

I had to ask myself, well,

Is it really worth it?

Is any of this worth it?

Well the whole thing’s far from perfect,

But I’ve yet to figure out a better way to spend my time.

Too many suits and dirty looks made me rack my brains,

And the real damage started to sink in.

It’d been quite a heavy weekend, but I could just about remember where I’d been.

I stood on a street corner, and I felt a little sick.

It was about then that I realized I was half-way through

The first day of the week.