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letra de the real damage - frank turner

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i woke up on a sofa in an unfamiliar house,
surrounded by sleeping folks that i didn’t know.
on failing to find my friends, i decided that it was clearly time to go.
so i made my way out of the door as quietly as i could –
there was no one there i knew to say goodbye –
squinting in the sadly sobering sunshine of the sunday morning light.

i started the night with all my friends and i ended up alone,
oh yes i started out so happy now i’m hung-over and down.
it was about then that i realized i was half-way through
the best years of my life.

so i scanned the local landmarks, trying to find out where i was,
and maybe even find a bus back home.
i was longing for a shower, and for clean sheets, and a charger for my phone.
and suddenly it hit me that i got paid this friday last
and so i rifled through my pockets for some change.
but all i found was a packet of broken cigarettes and sinking sense of shame.

i had to ask myself, well,
is it really worth it?
is any of this worth it?
well the whole thing’s far from perfect,
but i’ve yet to figure out a better way to spend my time.

too many suits and dirty looks made me rack my brains,
and the real damage started to sink in.
it’d been quite a heavy weekend, but i could just about remember where i’d been.

i stood on a street corner, and i felt a little sick.
it was about then that i realized i was half-way through
the first day of the week.

- frank turner

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