Sick to Death

I’m tired of taking pills and waking up before the sun
I count the hours, one by one
I’m up here with the fucking morons on TV
And how come they all look like me?

I’ve had a bellyful of tea and sympathy
I’m fucking sick to death of my own company
The scales tell tales of woe – and secret calories
In case it isn’t clear
Sometimes I wish I wasn’t here

It’s alright – I’ll be back tomorrow
It’s alright – I’ll be back tomorrow
It’s alright – I’ll be back tomorrow
Just you wait and see…

I’ve had enough of good advice from well-meaning friends
It nevеr, ever evеr ever ever ends
They say that words are cheap – but is that really true?
Cos I’ve got a bob or two
And nothing much to do tonight…

It’s alright – I’ll be back tomorrow
It’s alright – I’ll be back tomorrow
It’s alright – I’ll be back tomorrow

I’m sick and tired of singing this song