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Tomorrow over worked.
I can't seem to make it,
my boss is a jerk.
My hair is all crazy,
my butt wants to be lazy.
I'll get up early to iron my shirt.
I am unhappy,
a little bit snappy,
and I can't seem to get rid of the hurt.
Life I call it.
Where is my wallet?
My kid hid my shoes again.
Where's my checkbook,
and where is the damn pen?
I'm singled out,
just want to shout, "Is it over?"
"if not, when?"
Count my blessings,
drowned in ice cream,
and get up tomorrow,
just to do it again.
I drowning in pain,
hiding from rain,
and living life far,
far from mundain.
I'm thirsty for water,
my Heavenly Father,
I will hit my knees,
and then...
Be thankful for Heaven,
the life that I'm livin'
and past through him I can shed.