Father Down.

FATHER DOWN.
sneak

I wish I had depression -
just like my dear old dad.
I'd spend the day convincing -
my friends that I am sad.
I'd surface in the evening -
and shower in TV.
Rehearsing my dejection -
for my own security.
And when the pubs are open -
I could swear I feel ok.
My depression only prevalent -
throughout your working day.
I could practise being penniless,
and scrounge a pint or two.
And when my round is nearing -
I could slip in to the loo.
I could cut the rate of cancer -
by stealing cigarettes.
I could moan about my many -
imaginary debts.
Give marriage-guidance speeches,
whilst ignoring my affair.
Blame my current situation -
on that pesky Tony Blair.
I wish I had depression.
I'd trade this nine to five,
for a week of feeling sorry -
that I have to be alive.
Begging to be miserable -
on grazed and bended knees.
A week of doing nothing,
but anything I please.