A sleepless Sunday night
The vapid Avril Lavigne line
Singing Radiohead at the top of our lungs… something something na na na
Washes onto the morning sand
And finally dissipates mockingly into the grains
Releasing my brain to the flogging of the alarm clock
The worries that tossed and turned me
Between midnight and six this morning
Chuckle as they reveal themselves as trivial
Avril stuffs the worries and her song into a punky Burberry bag
As I stretch lamely for the alarm
See ya tonight fucker!
She dawdles away across the sand
Turning to give me the finger
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