The Ruitine Of Life

We drink to each others health
But spoil our own

We smoke because we can

And cause trouble at home

The halo that was on my head

Is 6 foot under, very much dead



All hope is gone

All hope is lost

A new breed of bum

We get called at best

I am not clean

I am not tidy

And what I love

Is a bloody good party



Next mornings not good

And though it may be

Work is a headache

All noisy, smells clean

The fumes can’t be good

They stink out the room

Or is my neighbour

Those god awful fumes



Out of the office

Back to routine

To get on the piss

The Mrs ain’t keen

To be a clown

Act all dumb

Or does come naturally

Is that really my thumb



Home at last

What glories night

Wake up in the morning

A hookers in sight

The job of the day

Is to piss her off

Holy crap

I think it’s my wife