Weekends are supposed to be great, and weekdays a sore.
But lately I find my work a good chore.
For all the weekend nights that we had, to all the bad coffee we always grab.
I want to forget how good those conversations made me feel, Cause now every weekend I feel very ill.
And I so look forward to sleeping dead tired over a day’s hardwork, For forgetting you, me and the memories that always lurk..