January Mornings By Gary Clark

If it wasn't for the football I think I'd go mad Dark January mornings they make me so sad If only I could win something on the national lottery I'd be out of here so quickly that nobody would find me Sat in my kitchen watching daytime TV I never thought so little would happen to me I was once a someone who everyone knew Now I'm just another long face in the queue Miserable and depressing I think I'm going mad It hurts and it grieves me when I remember what I had Even the football isn't so special like it used to be Not when everybody's an expert and knows more than me Useless and hopeless my life has become

I'm searching for salvation from what I've become I'm getting like my father, the one thing I didn't want to be Indecisive and bitter this is what Thatcher's done to me Working and grafting all my adult life to sit in the kitchen waiting for the wife Good job she's working she keeps us afloat She's paying the mortgage and keeping us from going broke Roll on Saturday when I can go and watch Hull City The only reminder of how it used to be, Two hours of pleasure, my only release from misery I'm getting so boring even I've started avoiding me. Passing ten minutes, January mornings.

Copyright © Gary Clark 2009

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