Every day passed the same way
Every night would blur into day
I had a job
It wasn't much
Couldn’t take it though
Got the axe passed out cold at the desk
Then came the time to get booed off the stage
In the first act
No sweat, it was easy
I'm in the ring now
With the real world
On a quest for sense
I get stitched
Hardly cut for this
And feeling like a portrait of the artist as a young man
I phone up Joyce, to double check
But I couldn't seem to get through
Everyday passed the same way
Every night would blur into day