It’s time for a new feature, who knows if it’ll catch on. We hope it does. It’s time for the Cheapest Poem of The Week. Every Friday (or FriYAY amiright) we’ll be putting out a poem, because the world needs more culture/ someone suggested we do it/ we desperately need more content:
Friday’s Child
Been working Monday,Thursday through
Just so I get back to you
To feel your glimmer, to smell your grace
I long to see Friday’s face
My life is empty, my wallet too
There’s but one thing that I can do
I’ll hit the town I’ll hit the doorstaff
What the fuck? Give me my drink back
Don’t you know I pay your wages?
I’ve been waiting here for ages
No service here? What does that mean?
“I’m a winner” – Charlie Sheen
Now why can’t I find my friend?
I never want this night to end
Why will no-one serve me drinks
I only called them “fucking pricks”
I clicked my fingers once or twice
A proper job, that’s my advice
On Saturday we go again
We are but boys we are not men
But fuck the fucking fucking barstaff
I really want my fucking drink back.
It’ll do. Happy Friday.
