But Then I Retired

Weary little bird
Sitting in a nest
Doesn’t wanna get up
Doesn’t wanna dress

Doesn’t wanna bother
Looking at the weather
Doesn’t wanna preen
Yet another feather

Doesn’t wanna fly
Needs to take a leak
Doesn’t wanna get up
To go and brush its beak

I know you little birdie
It’s to my soul you speak
I used to feel as you do
On Monday every week