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• Artiste: Sunny Intervals
• Titre: Chamomile Tea
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A room above the Wetherspoons Awake, hyperactive and testing my nerves until breaking point And from the beer garden The shrill sound of laughter and bottles that smash on the pavement outside And all the mothers that I meet Can't quite explain his lack of sleeping And all the fathers on the chatrooms Blissfully tired with frayed emotions But they're somehow relaxed But he never falls asleep I can't find the energy The words that might placate him And something's going to give at some point And then through the letterbox A cold call approach, you know I can't really vouch for the source Yet someone's listening And says they can help, you know I can't really turn them away And though my instinct was to run I turned up on daytime television To be ambushed by a friend A hostile reception And the main host, a show off by trade And the researchers didn't care And the counselors won't listen The producers chase their ratings And hung me out to dry So, what comes next for me? Left to the judgment of viewers of daytime TV And as the drinkers drink I draw down the curtains and reach for the chamomile tea