A day in my bed.
To rest my poor head.
But now I've got oodles
to work on, instead.

I thought it was a piece of fluff
So picked up off the floor.
But no, it was a spider!
Now it's on the ground once more.

Increasingly Complex
That's how this game feels.
It's getting much harder.
I need training wheels!

A large piece of cake. A great slice of gateaux.
Cherries and chocolate all over the place.
Shovel it all down my glutinous pie hole.
All kinds of sweetness to fill up my face.

Ahoy there mateys.
Look out to sea.
Prepare for attack,
For land there be.

They sent the wrong pills again.
It happens every time.
Each month I complain
for the pills that are mine.

I'm trying to think straight.
But it isn't that easy.
A trip into Bolton.
It makes me feel queazy.

Tomorrow's the day.
Will I get my PIP?
I cannot say.
But I hope it goes swimmingly.

I saw you, Mister Spider,
As you crawled beneath my bed.
I hope that while I'm sleeping,
you're not creeping 'round my head.

Flying out amongst the stars.
Avoiding all the rocks.
The AutoPilot steers the ship,
Whilst I adjust my socks.