A Monday

Why'd you go and wake me, I was sleeping, sleeping away inside my peace Why'd you go and cut, I wasn't bleeding, bleeding now and yet, these colors read It still feels like a Monday A weekend over, over and over again, it still feels like a Thursday. With a weekend that will never come. Why'd you go and have to be a problem, I'm on the wrong side of the bed. Why'd you go and have to fuck with my mind, was it ever right inside my head. I won't pretend to know how, it feels to not hate at all. It still feels like a Monday. A weekend over, over and over again, it still feels like a Thursday. With a weekend that will never come I don't have the patience that I thought I did I'm aging hard like sour milk in my mouth. It's a rusty self, but a sign in the back It still feels like a Monday. A weekend over, over and over again1