Why is it that Monday

In the weekday is the first?

Of all the days a man can face

It has to be the worst.

Friday night we all got right

It was fun, sure, all around

Now here I lay on the first work day

And how my head does pound.

Saturday was fine you know

From first light to the end

I lived it up and was in my my cups

Visiting with friends.

The food was rich and the talk was too

As we took in the town

And it seemed like by the end of it

I hadn’t much more than laid down.

Til Sunday morn appeared right bright

And off we went again

To remove the fog with the hair o’ the dog

At breakfast with our friends.

The day ran on and so did we

Piled in a car

We headed off two counties away

To visit another bar.

The music flowed, and the spirits too

We took in all they had

Food and drink to the glasses clink

My gut is iron clad!

Now here I lay at the start of day

Knowing all I need to do

I look around as my head pounds

My stomach’s rumblin’ too.

The alarm it seems to at me scream

And the light it hurts my eyes

Outside’s a bird that can be heard

To pipe torturous lullabies.

I’m sure he’s heard about the early worm

He’s up and out of the nest

Why can’t he shut his beak and let me sleep

Oh hell! I need some rest! 

“Oh well”, I say as I start my day

Tottering down the stairs

I lift the pot and the coffee’s hot

It drown’s out my cares.

Out the door I race, my day to face

With a week ahead of me

I swear my friend, “Never again!”

Just watch, you’ll see.