In The Morning

In the morning I’ll still be here even though you’ll be ashamed
And I’ll make you toast and clean up most of the problems I was blamed
For causing even though I think you know it was your ex who came in drunk
Who would’ve thunk so many words can rhyme with bunk and sunk and punk
And so I roast the bread and toast the dead or should it be the other way around
And have you found the precious earrings that fell out when you were on the ground
So you’re awake and at the table and you see me in your stable
So surprised that I was able to make a meal from the contents of your fridge
And though I’ve cheated just a smidge by walking down the street to by some meat
And cheese and eggs and milk and a fucking frying pan
You start to wonder if I’m a man who can make some sense of your future tense
Which has up to now been acknowledged in the past and I think, am I the last
Decent guy to ever walk through this train wreck’s door?
I sure hope so because she’s just what I need and I should ask for nothing more.