Me eyelids are failing me.nThis plain of asphalt stretches, and stretchesnTwelve o'clock, midnightnTo many early mornings and late nightsnI should've known it would ruin menDarknessnBack again, cursed bodynPitter-patternOh, it's raining again, joyousnSighnWindow-wipers on, nothingnWhat's this ?nBrokennThis can't be, or can't get worsenPopnA tire too ?nI shouldn't have said anythingnExasperated, my head graces teh wheelnWhy can't I just sleep, life is toom much for my shouldersnAweh wellnWhere is the shoulder of the road ?nWho builds these things anyway nWhere is a gas station when you need one, then again it's a corpse lot anywaynTwo dollars for gas ?nI'd rather crawlnWell, time to change this tirenUgh, doors broken, of course it isnTrunk poppednHow did I guess, no spare, seves me rightnWell, it looks like I'm waiting for daybreaknBut not in this rainnSilencenThe doors lockednInside I can see the keys in the ignitionnArghnI will pound this till I can take no more !nI knew I should've bought a phone instead of lottery ticketsnOne can creamnWell, looks like I'm catching pneumonia tonightnI hate Mondays