At noon, I'm still a schoolgirl
and no matter how I try
the flourescent tracks are blinding
and my scores tear at my eyes.
By six I tend to tend the bar
serving trash as wasted as can be
they'll chug as allows their system
tipping change to lovely me.
In the wretched hours of dawn,
I'll walk home through the rain
But the walls of my flat don't guarantee
That angels can't weep down on me
I will sleep as time is available
to begin my routine again
forgive me for collapsing into you
I'm afraid it's all I can afford to do
and to dream for after hours.
