Sick on a Sunday

Sick on a Sunday

Sick on a sunday
Woozy in the head
Felt so damn bad
 I should've stayed in bed

Fluids running through
My nose like a tap
 I had to get up
No one could sleep through that

My eyes are groggy
Haven't really slept
This ain't any sunday
It was nothing i expect

Coffee i had drunk
Makes it feel worse
Suspect the milk was off
Now i sit here and curse

Midday i feel toasted
Boiling hot and dry
All i can do is sniffle

Swearing with every sigh

Sick on a sunday
It's close to noon
  Iknow i'll make through it
 I just wish i was in my tomb