“The Sunday After the Saturday Before”

The direct sequel to “On a Typical Saturday Night”, “The Sunday After the Saturday Before” delves into many of the scenarios mentioned in the first instalment, and developing on them to give a sense of closure. The title is a play on the phrase “The morning after the night before”.

 

A new day dawns upon town,
Which is far from being vibrant,
In fact, it’s bordering,
On virtually silent,
All the workers are wrecked,
And in dire need of a rest,
They’ve only just about finished,
Cleaning up last night’s mess.

 

Everyone beings to wake,
Slowly from their slumber,
All of whom are in,
Varying states of mind,
Going to the kitchen,
To go and get the feed,
And drink some flat 7Up –
The mother of all cures!

 

Some of them however,
Don’t make it that far,
Their heads are in the toilet,
And they’re still seeing stars,
Feeling such an intense pain,
Which is throbbing over and over,
Because there’s nothing worse,
Than a goddamn hangover.

 

After the feed, it’s time,
To catch up with your friends,
And find out what has become,
The main talking points.

 

But some people’s stories,
C
ontain a little bit more,
Than what actually goes on,
Out on the dancefloor,
It’s time we caught up,
And find out how their evening went –
To see what else happened,
After the main event…

 

A lad who got the shift,
Is praised by his friends,
With a smile on his face,
Going from ear to ear,
He’s absolutely thrilled,
Bit his friends are wondering,
“Why on Earth did he stop?
Why didn’t he try for more?”

 

The woman, however,
Didn’t want to go near him,
And only went at him,
So that he’d finally go away,
She’ll never get praise for it,
In fact, she’ll be ridiculed,
And likely referred to as,
Nothing, but a whore.

 

The lads that were caught,
Having a needless scrap,
Ended up spending the night,
In a cold, jail cell,
Embarrassed and ashamed,
Looking quite an awful sight.

 

But one of the lads involved,
Got seriously hurt,
He’s since been brought to hospital,
And put on life support.

 

Another lad’s in the bed,
Right next door to him,
He’s drank far too much,
And he has been poisoned,
He’s only just arrived,
But quickly falls unconscious,
He’s rushed down to theatre,
To have his stomach pumped.

 

Meanwhile, in some house,
A lad has woken up,
With a woman right beside him,
Naked in his bed,
He tries to gather his thoughts,
And wonders what has happened,
But isn’t it already obvious,
That he’s had a one-night stand,
They both go downstairs,
Without saying a word,
‘Cause both know the situation,
Is really quite awkward,
She eventually leaves his place,
In a near frightening silence,
Both he and she aren’t sure,
If they’ll ever meet again.

 

But everything that happened,
Isn’t all that serious,
In fact, some of it,
Is actually, quite humorous.

 

Most go to their phone,
And straight onto Snapchat,
To have a look at their story,
They look upon it with shame,
At the things they’ve done,
In a “blaze of glory”…

 

Jumping up on bars,
Dancing like lunatics,
And the pics with some lads,
Covered in lipstick,
While those things are amusing,
Who could ever forget,
The video of that lad,
Completely off his head.

 

Of course, there are those,
Who haven’t gone to bed,
They haven’t stopped drinking,
And the party’s far from dead,
They are patiently waiting,
For the pubs to reopen,
So they can start round two,
And keep the drinks flowing.

 

And finally, some people,
Have decided to stay at home,
While they really enjoyed last night,
They want some time on their own.

 

Well, I think that’s it –
I don’t think there’s much more,
To say of the Sunday after,
The Saturday night before.