hoe're wired up my head needs shooting.

My frazzled brain, it needs rebooting.
The jumbled network of my mind
has got the most appauling routing.

Something's horribly awry,
so should I laugh at this, or cry?
I can't think straight or consentrate,
however hard I seem to try.

So idly into space I'm staring,
dribbling down the clothes I'm wearing.
There's work to do, I know it's true,
but now it seems I'm well past caring.

Intelligence has slipped away,
I won't see that again today,
and if I find someone to blame,
I swear I'm gonna make them pay!

So now what should I try to do?
It seems I haven't got a clue.
I cannot talk, nor stand or walk,
my mind has turned to useless goo!

Now soon I'll be in trouble deep,
'cos all I want to do is sleep,
but stuff it all, back home I'll crawl,
and fall in an unconsious heap!

Then once I've slept away the pain,
and have once more, a working brain,
It's out the door, to work once more
to try and burn it out again.