The real damage

Hoy tenemos una de esas canciones en las que se aprecia que no hace falta un gran número de instrumentos, simplemente con una guitarra, una buena letra y una voz bonita, se pueden conseguir cosas como ésta.





I woke up on a sofa in an unfamiliar house,
surrounded by sleeping folks I didn't know. On
failing to find my friends, I decided it was
clearly time to go. So I made my way out of the
door as quietly as I could - there was no one
there I knew to say goodbye, Squinting in the
sadly sobering sunshine of the Sunday morning
light.

I started the night with all my friends and I
ended up alone. I started out so happy now I'm
hungover and down. It was about then that I
realized I was half-way through the best years of
my life.

I scanned the local landmarks, trying to find out
where I was, and maybe even find a bus back home,
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Longing for a shower, and for clean sheets, and a
charger for my phone. Suddenly it hit me - I got
paid this Friday last, and so I rifled through my
pockets for some change. But all I found was a
packet of broken cigarettes and a sinking sense of
shame.

I had to ask myself: Is is really worth it? Is any
of this worth it? Well the whole thing's far from
perfect, But I've yet to figure out a better way
to spend my time.

Too many suits and dirty looks made me rack my
brains - the real damage started to sink in. It'd
been quite a heavy weekend and I could just about
remember where I'd been. Well I started the night
with all my friends and I ended up alone, I
started out so happy now I'm hungover and down. I
stood on a street corner and I felt a little sick.
It was about then that I realized I was halfway
through the first day of the week.