The Shining

Days have past, sitting at this typewriter

Typing the same shit because I'm a psycho

Type all day, go to the bar at night

Talk with the bartender as he pours a flight

It's snowing outside and hasn't stopped

My family and I are unfortunately stuck

In this hotel while the blizzard blows past

Yet this typewriting wizard is still typing fast

Pages stacking up

Rage building up

Bar filling my cup

No play for this fuck

No play for me

No play for jack, me

Jack works hard

All work and no play

Hard work all day

There is my wife checking my typewriter

I wonder how I should go and talk to her?