Good Morning

Tonight I had planned to play a song, but these plans have since been shattered,
For with remarkable lack of foresight or planning I went out last night and got blattered,
I would like to say that I woke up feeling broken but that is sadly untrue,
The fact of the matter is I don't think I slept so it'd be more accurate to say I came to,
And somewhere between the sofa (on which I perched a little too shakily),
And hanging off the rim of the toilet (into which I vomited quite gracefully),
I realised that I may not be performing tonight.

The crackle and static of white noise in my head testified to the abscence of thought,
And the most enlightened of things to pass through my mind was a broadcast from Radio Four,
I considered trying to convince myself that my peers were most prominent wits,
But unbidden came memories of Sam's narrative, which was mostly just shrieking like a tit,
And I was forced to admit to myself that I'd spent the night with a hyperactive nutter,
Who's refinement and poise would be sorely pressed by particularly intelligent butter.

This admission served to demoralize my inner workings, already quite broken indeed,
And I was almost relieved by the dizzying feeling of my body making all my decisions for me,
But of course that'd be too easy, it'd all be over far too quickly,
And deprive the universe of this wonderful chance to truely and totally dick me,
So nausea sulked into sight, and I thought of the bandersnatch or,
Some slug, toad or horror; something worse than all others, a heavily menstruating Thatcher.

It was about this time I realised too that I had become really quite fragrant,
Completing in earnest my affected air of an extremely unfortunate vagrant,
I considered a bath or shower but feared some overstimulation,
Of my surviving four brain cells, who, fragile as they were, could not handle such exciting conditions,
So I slumped over onto the table and blindly I pawed about for a pen,
I'd be damned if this one, all malice and karma, went unrecorded in the end!

I laid the pen and paper on the table and crawled up the stairs to the John,
I had no need for ablutions as such, but just felt that here was where I belonged;
In the fetal position on the toilet floor, so tonight I won't play any songs.