Even the light in the fridge is too bright;
The violent toast makes me jerk;
The juice is too sweet to contemplate,
The crackling rice fireworks.

It could still be the night before,
If it weren't for the now alone.
I could have grabbed a way to score,
Instead of crawling on home.

The postman's whistle is resonant hell;
The milk bottles clinking a gun;
The newspaper girl is an alien world,
Lit by the tortuous sun.

I wish it was night-time again,
When silence and darkness were here,
I wish the bright daylight and noise would depart
And leave me to sleep in my beer.

The journey to work is swimming in haze;
The parking a study in squints.
My chair has become just a pillowless bed,
My colleagues just shadows and hints.

Night is my favourite time,
It frees me from daily routine.
There's nothing at night is a sin or a crime;
I can live without having to mean.

Lunch is an exercise, sat at my desk.
Afternoon lingers forever.
But as daylight fades I am suffering less,
And darkness forgets me my never.

It's back to my bar, my stool and my beer;
My barman is ready to serve.
I don't recall why I keep drinking out here.
Perhaps I seek what I deserve.