
It’s Wednesday, mate, I plod along,
The week feels twice as bleedin’ long.
But still I crack a grin in stride—
Midweek won’t beat me, not this tide.
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It’s Wednesday, mate, I plod along,
The week feels twice as bleedin’ long.
But still I crack a grin in stride—
Midweek won’t beat me, not this tide.

It’s Monday, mate, I’m on the run,
Back up to London, work begun.
I shuffle in with bleary mind—
Another week, the same old grind.