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I woke up in the evening, with the sun in my eyes,

Grabbed the bottle from the counter and stepped outside,

Was confronted by a lady who told me to run or to pray,

I kindly refused both, so she led me astray,

Oh, what a day,

Oh, what a day.

 

The drunken’ sailor said to me, ‘hey fella, I’m your man,

Now pick up your handgun and hold out your hand,'

Stuck a thought in my brain and his fist on my cheek,

Shouting ‘we’ve all had lovers; my future looks bleak’,

Oh, what a week,

Oh, what a week.

 

The days turned into weeks and the weeks into hours,

Living under a pier with the sea for a shower,

You’re broke you ain’t got no choice to live rough,

But I ain’t yet broke which makes it twice as tough,

Oh, what a month,

Oh, what a month.

 

Went in land to prosper and I prospered in vein,

Found a needle for my arm but a spike for my brain,

Miss the sound of an alarm clock, how I long to hear,

That incessant drone of normality ringing so clear,

Oh, what a year,

Oh, what a year.

 

Not much happened since the day I was born,

A single light of consciousness alone and forlorn,

My breaths are getting shallow, I think it is time,

To let go of nothing and slip into the night.

Oh, what a life,

Oh, what a life.