Brookwrite

Hangover Hangup

Stop that alarm ringing in my head
last night must've left my brain for dead,
Crawling 'cross the carpet to the kitchen door
ending up instead on the bathroom floor.
Wake up, stumble down the hall at one,
my head pounds again from the blinding sun,
then the part comes that I've learned to dread
the message from my newest ex-girlfriend,
I called her to confess my most recent sin
I heard the hangover hangup again.

There's a different hangup that's far more severe
waking in the morning finding she's still here,
not that I think I deserve much blame
it's just a shame I don't remember her name.
So I decide that I should play along
and act as though there's nothing wrong,
but there's only so long I can play this charade
and it always comes time the piper must be paid.
And I soak my remorse in a tonic and gin
I've got a hangover hangup again.

(Once again I take it on the chin
I've got another hangover hangup again.)

(It doesn't matter if I lose or win
I always get the hangover hangup again.)

Written in early 1996, not the morning after a night of heavy drinking.