I’m not smiling because I’m happy

I’m smiling because I’m wrecked

Because for a weekend I can heal

The bleeding head from all the pecks

From the pecking order

I can cut the cord

And breathe with my friends

We’re not gonna stop til the very end

Pub

Club

After party

House party

Couple of hours passing for sleep

Then back to the pub

I don’t even know if I’m enjoying it anymore

It’s my only chance

I’ve been talking to fucking idiots all week

And now I just wanna dance

To feel something pure

The blinking of computer screens lighting up my face

Is replaced by roaming strobes

And drum n bass

Sad or happy?

Who cares?

I’m ignoring all peripheral wears and tears

And I’ll get hammered quicker if my dinner is just this cheese melt

Fuck the recession making me tighten my belt

A Becks and a double tequila please mate

 

It’s elemental now

Just stinging sweat and this sticky floor

Just the lights, the beats, my feet and nothing more

Avoiding Monday kicking in my bedroom door

And shackling my ankles

And, bleeding and sore,

Dragging me to work

To avoid being poor

 

Flashes of the news talking about binge drinking

Thinking they’re linking it all together

… whatever…

They’e saying I’m to blame

Over the centuries, it’s always the same

Just another scapegoat

Older generations scared of the young

No idea about this pill tripping to my throat from the tip of my tounge

Unaware that the system they’ve created

Cremates my faith and makes me not care

I’ve got loads of surplus cash but so little time to spare

So how fucking dare they?

As I pour my heart out

Eight hours a day

Five days a week

Then say it’s wrong for me to get twatted

And feel strong for once

Those hypocritical cunts

 

Maybe I just want a taste of feeling

Maybe it’s a simulation of love I’m needing

Give my reality a tweak

Then maybe, just maybe

I can make it through next week