MONDAY, I'M OFF TO WORK

Monday morning I am soar,

I am tired and could sleep some more,

I was a weekend rowdy,

My mind is still cloudy,

I can't remember how to open the door.

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STROBING MAKES EYEBALLS REALLY SOAR

There was a tiny twinkle in the little star,

A twinkle, like the big headlamp on Ned's old car,

Some call it a strobe light,

A rave party delight,

Strobe driving hurts Ned's eyeballs, he can't drive far. 

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO SATURDAY?

Some weekends I lose my Saturday, like it's zero seconds long,

Sometimes I go out Friday night, and things just go real wrong,

It starts off with the dancing,

Jerky movements, and some prancing,

Then I wakeup Sunday morning, as the church bell go ding dong.