The crunch of dead leaves
Beneath my feet
As I walk down the street
To drown this everlasting misery
I look up and see, the 3 leafed sign
That good old Irish pub of mine
I walk inside and sit down
Drinking till my frown turns around
I pick up from where I left off
Looking up to order another drink
But instead the clock tells me to go back in sync,
Which means lunch break is up,
Guess the routine will start over again
I pick up my hat and put on my jacket
Say farewell to the gentleman who always cause a racket.
Back to a  job that makes me Depressed
To bad I can’t keep drinking instead.