Peculiar Feelin' - Phil Carmen

Wrong side of my bed

Is how I fell out today

Peculiar feeling in the air

Number seven’s on its head

Is what the March calendar said

And the rain drenched street outside is crying

It’s the end, it’s the limit

Can’t get it straight, oh no

Every hour, every minute

I’m gonna be too late

Flat tyre on my car

Call a cab down at the bar

Cold and windy waiting till it comes

It’s the end, it’s the limit

Can’t get it straight, oh no

Every hour, every minute

I’m gonna be too late

Had enough, off home again

Back to bed at half past ten

Sleep and dram till tomorrow’s here, till then

Sleep and dram till tomorrow’s here, till then

Sleep and dream till tomorrow’s here, till then