My last day at home before the autumn
Holiday, very start of September
Me, John and Gareth off to the Balkans
Poor weather here, I hope for better there
Early start, I must try to rise at four
Fuck knows what'll happen if the alarm
Doesn't go off as it should or I snore
Through it, oblivious. Worry will arm
Me, I think, I'll probably, true to form
Wake up myself before it plays its tune
Not gonna have breakfast, I do not dare
Unless I wake up early enough, warm
Some porridge, quickly. I don't wanna run
To Piccadilly, panicking, no sir!!
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