Friday, friday, friday,
it means a lot
a lot to us
those who work
and plough,
day in, day out,
friday is here
to save us all.
Friday, friday, friday,
such a magic date
and everyone's excited
and prancing and
waiting, waiting
till the clock strikes
five, at least for us
who work here,
doesn't matter,
we all wait,
for the end of the day,
and the beggining of
the night.
the night, a lot of
people gather on bars,
and club houses,
and this and that,
whatever, wherever
away from home,
they are.
But not all
of them.
Some of us
are loners,
who'll stay inside,
out of sight
and out of trouble,
and away, so far away,
from where the other
people stay,
we stay.
I was not
always this way,
friday would
be, bar day for me,
and all the friends
I had back then,
money didn't
mattered, cos I
hardly ever drank,
anyway.
Ten years pass.
Now I'm not going
anywhere, no more,
I don't really care,
but I know I should
because I'm here,
all alone, in here,
all alone.
No, not alone...
I got Gideon there,
He's my friend, my
pal, in times like these,
I know, it sounds
nutty, to talk to a
wooden dragon,
but he's been more
than a friend, in
times like these,
where all the other
friends have
dissappeared.
Am I insane? Well...
a little bit, I'd say,
but try and be alone
for ten years in a row,
remember Wilson?
remember Castaway?
you need someone
to speak, someone
to say,
that you're not
truly alone.
Yet you are.
You know you are.
They have left.
All of them.
you are alone,
going insane, bit
by bit, day by
day...night
after night.
Friday night.
I'll be there.
Me and myself,
sometimes called
Gideon.
