It’s Thursday, my Friday, and here we are again, working, working, working.
Some day we won’t be able or even have to work.
That some day will be when we’re long dead and gone.
I like life. Life likes me. It’s an impossibility. Perfect in its meaninglessnesses.
You should be happy too, dear, knowing this, tired, sad truth, the dirty low down.
Take it away, Boz Scaggs….