Monday Made Me Do It

Into the Ice

Monday, round two. One eye open, the coffee tastes like I barely survived, and the ceiling fan has better rhythm than me. I danced till four so I wouldn't have to sit still, and now Monday plays the whole thing back at roll call. I don't hate Monday, I hate the lie that I'm meant to love the nine to die. Monday didn't make you do it, it just showed you who's been holding your keys.

Lyrics

Song Title: Monday Made Me Do It (Charlie C Darkwave Version)

Sun’s out
But my head’s still in the club
So Monday
Round two

One eye open, the other still fried
Coffee tastes like I barely survived
My breath says gin, my phone says lies
And I don’t even know who I texted last night

The silence screams like a broken crowd
I’m drowning in light, under a personal cloud
Ceiling fan got better rhythm than me
Guess regret clocks in at 7:03

I had time to think, and that’s a crime
So I killed it with vodka and rented my mind
Kept dancing just to not feel still
Now Monday’s here like pay that bill

Oh Monday, you ruthless mirror
You show me what I drank to disappear
Was it fun? Yeah till 4AM
Now I’m here again, pretending I’m zen

Oh Monday, my public execution song
One eye twitching, one mask on
I’d run away if I could be free
But the rain moved in and it sleeps with me

Yeah
Welcome to the loop baby

Alarm clock barking like a prison guard
Dreams on silent, but the rent too loud
I don’t hate Monday, I hate the lie
That I’m supposed to love this nine to die

Perform my feelings, monetize pain
Turn breakdowns into dopamine chains
Smile for the feed, bleed in private
Call it self love but we all know we lying

Everybody tired but we flexing awake
Burnout in couture, anxiety in 4K
They say do what you love, I did now I’m numb
Now even my passions feel like part of the job

So fuck Monday, fuck motivation quotes
Fuck live your best life under capitalist ghosts
I’m not lazy, I’m spiritually fried
Just trying to survive inside a system that’s high

Monday didn’t make me do it
But Monday reminds me who owns me

The pillow’s cold, but not enough
To freeze the thoughts I fake and stuff
My texts are crimes, my mind’s on trial
Who knew tequila had such long term files

And work? Oh right, that adult disguise
Where we cosplay purpose to pay for our lives
So I’ll put on pants, upload a grin
And try not to mention the state I’m in

You ever wake up wishing you could uninstall your personality?
Not die, just log out
Give your nervous system a sick day
Tell your shadow to stop freelancing in your head
But nah
Here we are
Rain in the brightest room
Me and my reflection
Co managing disappointment

Oh Monday, you stage lighted sin
You spotlight every mess I’m in
You saw the spiral, you filmed the fall
Now you play it back at 9AM roll call

Oh Monday, you tightrope tease
You hand me hope, then steal my keys
But maybe if I clock in fast
I won’t feel the future eating my past

I’ll walk it off
Fake the glow
And maybe by lunch
No one will know

Except me

Words and music: Romian Nazlab · A Bonfire Production