it’s 7.00 am in london
waiting my turn in the queue
collect the dole just to get some food
self-esteem is not an option i can pursue

it’s 7.00 am different morning
most others would still be in bed
wake up and smell those roses
might notice the manure smells like shit

i get this feeling
chills my spine knocks me on my back
can’t help thinking
should be doing something more
… maybe i’m flawed

after i’ve had some breakfast
get up onto tired feet
walk back past that liquor store
move on – no consideration of retreat

but then i turn
and think well who cares
shouldn’t need to get through this world
without making some hell

cross that threshold
automatic tone pierce my head
why spend that hard earned
cash on food and bread

i hit the ceiling
picks me up then it puts me down
but i don’t care
think this time i’ll get myself
… completely floored

words & music:
D. Allen-Williams 1993