A Great Weekend
It’s Friday, it’s five o’clock,
Yippee weekend is finally here,
Fantastic, frantic, Friday night with lashings of Lager and Beer.
The alarm clock with its bells turned off lies silent, castrated and forlorn.
Saturday morning is here with the remnants of Friday’s curry hanging on my first yawn.
Saturdays bright sharp sunlight screws up my hung over ferret eyes,
The cool smooth porcelain reverberates with the time-honored cries of,
Never Again !!
Saturday one o’clock, the match is nearly here,
Time to go down the pub to meet the lads for lashings of lager and beer.
All the faithful gather together, expectations running high.
Half-time pundits dissect and evaluate the game while queuing up to buy,
Beer in plastic glasses to be ceremoniously spilt and slopped,
While dexterously juggling a molten meat pie that’s burning laser hot.
Then victors and vanquished parade through the streets,
Some sorrowfully slope home, other revel in their teams feats.
Now it’s time to tee myself up for an assault on the pubs of the city,
At the end of the night everyone is my friend,
Every woman is so young and so pretty.
Silent Sunday morning amnesia of a boozy Saturday night,
Did I get myself into trouble, did I get myself into a fight,
Did I pull a beast or a beauty,
Was she big, was she fat, was she thin,
I had better get ready to go down the pub so the lads can fill me in.
With shrunken Sunday pockets, drinking stamina put to the test,
Trying to milk every moment of this precious weekend though my body is craving a rest.
Sundays alarm is set for Monday, prepared to earn a weeks pay,
There should only be one six o’clock in a civilised mans working day.
As I slowly close my weary eyes a new week is nearly here,
Don’t worry I say it will soon be Friday and lashings of lager and beer.