I Like Mondays

I like New Year's, I like Mondays I like firsts of the month Notebook paper, wet cement The moment's never been touched I like knowing that there's something That I haven't messed up 'Cause I will, and I do And I'm supposed to I am perfect, if by perfect You mean totally flawed I am wrestling with the presence Of an all-knowing God I drink caffeine even though I always said I would not So I'm weak, or a fool But I'm supposed to Be That's me I rush the future, I cling to the past I'm terrified the present will not last I see the irony, I get the fact It's already gone By the time that the thought Has passed I am working on it Give me some grace I like empty pages I like Mondays I like order, I like answers Wrapped in ribbon and twine I grab hold of unknown outcomes 'Til my knuckles are white I am trying to be kinder To this body of mine 'Cause it keeps me alive Like it's supposed to I rush the future, I cling to the past I'm terrified the present will not last I see the irony, I get the fact It's already gone By the time that the thought Has passed I am working on it Give me some grace I like empty pages I like Mondays I would eat the solar system All in one bite If it could give me clarity If it would let me freeze time I'm trying to surrender But I'm hard-wired for fight Give me some grace I like empty pages I like I like New Year's, I like Mondays I like firsts of the month Notebook paper, wet cement The moment's never been touched I like knowing that there's something That I haven't messed up 'Cause I will, and I do And I'm supposed to