Comics In The Doghouse – The Bedroom Philosopher

Welcome To Depression:

population one

 

The weathers always crap

 

and the nightlife ain't much fun

 

The birds are all well trained

 

at pooing on your head

 

There's a black dog that follows you

 

and tries to hump your leg

 

There's only one shop and it's shut most of the day

 

it's got a range of tracksuits in twenty shades of grey

 

They've got carob and canned stew

 

some kind of beef tea

 

A fishing magazine

 

from 2003

 

There's wine at least

 

and coffee

 

sometimes cigarettes

 

But when you party by yourself

 

you just end up more depressed

 

There's only one theatre

 

but not the best range on

 

Another bleak Australian film

 

movie marathon

 

There's a bar that smells like farts

 

couches full of crabs

 

A jukebox that only plays

 

Hurt by Johnny Cash

 

A night spent in depression's

 

when it really starts to suck

 

The wind blows through your pants

 

and the moon can't get it up

 

There's smog and mist and sleet

 

hailstones as well

 

The only star you'll find is the one

 

rating your hotel

 

The toilet's always clogged

 

and there's gas leaks in the halls

 

If that isn't the smell

 

it's dead possums in the walls

 

The mattress is all lumpy

 

the pillow smells like cheese

 

You just heard the sound

 

of something under your bed sneeze

 

Somehow there's mosquitos

 

even though it's freezing

 

You want to touch yourself

 

but you're scared you'll let the fleas in

 

All the words you never say

 

are running round your head

 

Your brain's a lonely playground

 

the kids are full of dread

 

You dream in fitful nightmares

 

ghosts on the attack

 

And wake up at five am

 

being spooned by a cat

 

Of course there's no hot water

 

you brush your teeth with soap

 

And checkout of your hotel

 

with a sorry little note

 

There's no mobile reception

 

phonecards not topped up

 

The internet is dial up

 

and full of porn popups

 

Depressions pretty small

 

but it's easy to get stuck

 

The bridge has fallen in

 

and the river's full of muck

 

By now your hungry, fleabitten

 

siting on wet bum

 

On the verge of tears with

 

your leg still getting humped

 

You try to draw a map

 

but it just looks like a squiggle

 

A bird poos on your hand

 

and it's then you start to giggle

 

You look in your back pack

 

To find a pad and pen

 

And spend an hour writing out

 

all that's in your head

 

You run back to the shop

 

to get some exercise

 

The fresh wind in your face

 

seems to brighten up the skies

 

Your backpack feels too heavy so you

 

tip out all the booze

 

And pick up the black dog

 

to stop him weeing on your shoes

 

You give the mutt a cuddle

 

as your heart begins to ache

 

There's a sparkle in your eye

 

as the clouds begin to break

 

He leads you to a storeroom

 

where they keep all the good food

 

Feeling sick on chocolate

 

has never felt so good

 

By now the sun is beaming

 

the birds begin to chime

 

You walk back where you started

 

and it's there you see the sign

 

Welcome To Depression:

 

population two

 

There's someone in this shitty town

 

feeling just like you.