Moving On.

I have never felt more like getting drunk.
And behaving like an uncivil punk.
At the office I've had another bad day.
Nothing ever seems to go my way.
Sometimes i wonder what I'm doing here.
Tell them to stuff their job, words from an imaginary voice my ears do hear.
That i might do.
Why everyday be depressingly blue.
Five o'clock the office clock does strike.
I put on my coat and run outside and disappear on my old mountain bike.
Back home i quickly ride.
My blue blue thoughts contemplating suicide.
But once I'm home my thoughts relax.
And with the wife i have loving sex.
After sex we deeply talk.
She told me from your job you must quickly away walk.
So the next day i told the boss where to go.
Now I'm feeling high and no longer low.