This morning he’s a little somber, a little dazed. And the grey sky doesn’t help, or his hangover.
So we’ll leave him his peace cos he’s in no mood to natter.
And I reckon after a nice cuppa he’ll be straight back to bed, duvet pulled up over his head to block out that one chink of light that ever escapes the curtain’s side.
And we won’t ask him what he got up to last night cos I’m sure he was an impeccable guest and didn’t drink tequila like a maniac or run around wearing nothing but a straw hat.
Not this chap…tho he is having some worrying flashbacks.
Sweet dreams luv.