Hungover I love the days you're allowed to laze, 'Cause yesterday was spent in a drunken haze. You lie in bed and say you're feeling fragile, You can't clean or cook, or do anything slightly agile. You stay in your pit, and watch brain dead TV You eat far too much chocolate, Drink far too much tea. You swear several times you're never drinking again, Your stomach's in knots and your poor head's in pain. Just looking at the gin bottle makes you feel ill, You vow that in future, you'll strengthen your will. But as weekend rolls nearer, Your head feels clearer. You get itchy feet and you start to think, That you might as well go for a very large drink!
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