I should have put the dinner in the oven on time,
I should have got the washing in off the line,
I should have tried to make words rhyme,
But nobody told me we had wine.
Now the grape has me firmly in its grasp,
Alcohol has my brain tightly clasped,
My liver surfaces for one last gasp,
As I empty another wine glass.
So I dedicate tonight to drowning my sorrow,
Glad that my legs seem quite hollow,
My jobs to hell in a hand cart can go,
After all there’s always tomorrow.