Small tiny pieces.

So small the eyes can't see it.

Broken down for the weekend so keep it.

With a curse from the last person,

who had ever spoken.

We poison the mind.

For we can't deny.

That the drink,

a token that shall be broken.

Could not be spiked,

the night did not start right.

You can't tell we have been sleep'n,

cause it was the weekend.

Put it all behind us the weekend as been speak'n.

So it can meet us again this weekend.

New broken ages should hear about the cages.

That must keep our wages.

The end is here so we should gather round to hear,

That it’s the broken weekend.