A Day In The Life

Alex Dionisio

[Chorus]
Some got it really bad
So don’t be getting mad
Be thankful what you got, for things to build upon

Some got it really bad
So don’t be getting mad
Be thankful what you got, for things to build upon

[Verse 1]
He came back from school
Passed for credentials
A few months passed
A few bad interviews
A bad mood
A trip to Cali interlude
Got a job, moved into apartment 2
Always on the move
No friends, no family, paychecks, unhappy
Paranoid, swears he’s going to swear and yell, flip the middle finger
Swings his car into a single space
Checking things over and over again
Losing control over everything
Doesn’t know where anything ever is
Feels like work will never end
Writes notes, it’s hard to remember them
Society just won’t let him in

[Chorus]
Some got it really bad
So don’t be getting mad
Be thankful what you got, for things to build upon

Some got it really bad
So don’t be getting mad
Be thankful what you got, for things to build upon

[Verse 2]
He talked to his mom, she started to cry
Hung up the phone not wanting to fight
He showered, dressed and started his ride
It was hard to get by, he just wanted to die
At work, it was hard to say hi
They probably thought, ‘what’s wrong with this guy?’
He thought, ‘if only they saw me inside’
He could work better with his problems aside
But it’s hard because problems started to rise
Got home and lifted a bottle way high
Keeping all his problems bottled inside
Smoking cigarettes, always longs to get high
Driving around tipsy to wander the night
Stopping at Taco Bell because he wanted a bite
Gets back home, it takes long to unwind
Relocking doors, what’s going on in his mind?

[Chorus]
Some got it really bad
So don’t be getting mad
Be thankful what you got, for things to build upon

Some got it really bad
So don’t be getting mad
Be thankful what you got, for things to build upon

[Verse 3]
The slightest change in his tone wavering, his boss puts him on probation
He got fired, going back to home again
The job search is not going as planned
Drowns himself in music, flowing and rap
Doing checks, the refuse bin, that’s trash
Gum, crumbs, toothpick, Q-Tip cotton swabs and cotton balls
He will count ‘em all
His friend dissed him so he skipped giving him calls and texts
He needed distance, but his other friends he knew pulled the same stunt in his direction
He too became a victim
Smoking like a chimney, the pack’s empty on Wednesday
He bought it on Monday midday
The note said, “When I’m gone, ya’ll are fucked”
He died in his car, windows down, garage shut