Hung Over

It’s nine o’clock; I’m still in bed.
The sun is shining strong.
I missed another day of work;
My job won’t last for long.

I just can’t seem to raise my head,
My limbs feel so damn sore.
It’s almost like my time has come
I’m beaten to my core.

I knew I should have called a halt,
Instead I had one more.
The barkeep poured me one last drink
Then shoved me out the door.

I don’t remember driving home.
How did I get to bed?
I don’t remember much at all;
I wish that I were dead.

I’ll never drink a drop again,
I promise, yes I do.
If I can just get through this day
I’ll start my life anew.

I need some help to clear my head,
Something to sort things out.
A hair of the dog is what I need;
That’s what it's all about.

Cheers