Woke up at a quarter to eleven
Although I was fairly late going to bed
And at twenty to six or maybe seven
Some talk and noise outside interrupted
My sleep for an hour and a half. I've tried
To do what I can, post-Edinburgh
I wrote a comedy song, summarised
My Fringe memories and impressions, a blur
If left longer, details would disappear
And now I'm mentally tired at seven
Thirty after my tea, refilling head
With Brexit shit I've not missed while up there
Engrossed in my show and others I'd seen
Tomorrow, it's back to work, I'm afraid...!!!
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