I was the boy with the golden touch;
Day after day I never thought too much.
But oh life will insist
On fucking up my youth and my happiness.
In my dreams schools is done
and I'm running barefoot in the summer sun.
I hope I sleep tonight;
I hope I can relax without a fight.
I went to school and I wasted my time.
I got a job and I wasted my time.
Guess I should have a kid,
To make up for all the stupid stuff I did.
I was the kid who would lie in bed:
watch the sun catch the dust all around my head.
I hear my mother call;
I hear my father call.
I guess I have to get up after all.
Mike Enright, c. 1980