Monday Made Me Do It

The story

Sun's out, but the rain is still in my room. The coffee tastes like guilt, the ceiling fan has better rhythm than me, and my reflection just rolls her eyes. I'll walk it off, fake the glow, and maybe by lunch no one will know. Except me. You can fool a whole office before noon, but never the one in the mirror.

Lyrics

Sun’s out.
But rain’s still in my room.
So… Monday, we meet again.

One eye open, the other still drunk,
Coffee tastes like guilt and funk.
My breath says gin, my brain says shame,
And I don’t even remember her name.

The silence screams a little too loud,
I’m drowning in light, under a personal cloud.
The ceiling fan’s got better rhythm than me,
Guess regret starts at 7:03.

I had time to think, and that’s the crime
So I buried it in vodka and wasted rhyme.
Kept dancing just to not sit still,
Now Monday’s here to send the bill.

Oh Monday, you cruel little mirror,
You show me what I drank to disappear.
Was it fun? I guess, 'til 4AM.
Now I’m here again, pretending I’m Zen.

Oh Monday, you're my punishment song,
One eye twitching, one all wrong.
I’d turn around if I could, you see,
But the rain moved in, and it sleeps with me.

The pillow’s cold, but not enough,
To freeze the thoughts I muffed and stuffed.
My texts are crimes, my mind’s on trial,
Who knew tequila could stay awhile?

And work? Oh right, that grown-up play
Where distraction keeps the ghosts at bay.
So I’ll put on pants, fake a grin,
And try not to mention the state I’m in.

You ever wake up wishing you could rewind, not time,
Just awareness?
Like give your conscience the weekend off
And tell your shadow to leave you alone?
But nope.
Here we are.
Rain in the sunniest room.
Me and my echo, sharing a toothbrush.

Oh Monday, you stage-lighted sin,
You spotlight every mess I’m in.
You saw the spiral, you filmed the fall,
And you play it back at 9AM roll call.

Oh Monday, you tightrope tease,
You hand me hope, then steal my keys.
But maybe if I clock in fast
I won’t feel the future chasing my past.

I’ll walk it off.
Fake the glow.
And maybe by lunch,
No one will know.

(Except me.)

There’s toothpaste on my sweater,
Coffee’s cold, but I pretend
That yesterday’s decisions
Weren’t made just to offend.
I talk to my reflection
Like she’s got a better plan,
But she just rolls her eyes
And lights a cigarette again.

So blame it on the weekend,
The wine, the moon, the mood
But Monday made me do it,
And I’m just the substitute.
Yeah, Monday made me do it
But I’m the only one who knew.
(It’s always me who knew.)

I’ll walk it off.
Fake the glow.
And maybe by lunch,
No one will know.

(Except me.)