I keep missing out on perfect weather I may not be clever But it's all got mundane Where's my Sunday The washup got me good all day Can't think of the last time we're together It may not matter But it's all i think about I lose my cool There's so much we could do ahead It's not a bad decision to leave me behind My feet are hurting, six hours of standing up The clock is ticking but it feels like forever The people waiting can keep on hoping for morphine While I'm stuck cleaning the ceiling And you watch me from beneath, appaling Scared of falling down