[Intro – bright crunchy guitar riff, bouncing bass, upbeat punk drums] [Verse 1 – relaxed playful female punk vocal] Wake up at eleven thirty, sunlight halfway up the wall, Reach across to check my phone— nothing fucking there at all. No appointments. No reminders. No place I'm supposed to be. Check the calendar again because this feels suspiciously free. Could get up. Could make breakfast. Could accomplish something great. Roll back over, close my eyes— wake up at twelve forty-eight. Perfect. [Pre-Chorus – cheerful build] Whole day sitting there completely fucking unused. Somebody texts, “Doing anything?” [Shout-sung] ABSOLUTELY! NOTHING! THANK YOU! [Chorus – huge upbeat punk vocal] I'VE GOT NOTHING TO DO! AND ALL FUCKING DAY TO DO IT! NO PLAN! NO CLOCK! NO REASON TO IMPROVE IT! I'VE GOT NOTHING TO DO! AND I'M DOING IT JUST FINE! THIS ENTIRE FUCKING SATURDAY IS COMPLETELY FUCKING MINE! [Bright melodic guitar hook] [Verse 2 – fast cheeky vocal] Breakfast somewhere after one, coffee counts as lunch by two, Open up a game I've owned for years, lose another hour or two. Think about the laundry. Laundry isn't going anywhere. Look at dishes in the kitchen. We acknowledge that they're there. Phone buzzes. “Fancy going out?” I stare at it a while. Could put trousers on and leave. Could also not. That makes me smile. Send a deeply thoughtful answer: “Maybe next time, mate.” Then return to doing fuck-all at an absolutely world-class rate. [Chorus – fuller] I'VE GOT NOTHING TO DO! AND ALL FUCKING DAY TO DO IT! NO GOALS! NO LIST! NO NEED TO FUCKING USE IT! I'VE GOT NOTHING TO DO! DON'T TRY TO OPTIMISE MY TIME! I'M BUSY WASTING SATURDAY AND SATURDAY IS FUCKING MINE! [Instrumental Break – playful melodic guitar lead, driving bass] [Bridge – warm melodic vocal] Don't call it wasted. I was there for every bit. Didn't build. Didn't learn. Didn't hustle. Didn't fix. Nobody got inspired. Nothing changed because of me. I ate crisps at half past three. It was fucking lovely. [Drums build] [Verse 3 – energetic melodic vocal] Six o'clock arrives somehow. Order something I don't cook. Spend ten minutes choosing something, then another twenty looking. Food arrives. Film goes on. Halfway through I change my mind. Put another stupid series on I've watched a hundred times. Outside world keeps happening. It seems to manage without me. No emergencies. No disasters. No sudden responsibility. Then somebody sends a message: “Big plans tomorrow?” Fuck. Tomorrow? That's tomorrow's problem. [Shout-sung] TODAY'S STILL GOT THREE HOURS LEFT! [Final Chorus – massive joyful punk vocal] I'VE GOT NOTHING TO DO! AND THREE MORE HOURS TO DO IT! NO PLAN! NO CLOCK! AND NO INTENTION TO IMPROVE IT! I'VE GOT NOTHING TO DO! BEST FUCKING THING I'VE DONE ALL WEEK! IF ANYBODY NEEDS ME TONIGHT— [Shout-sung] THEY FUCKING DON'T! I'M BUSY! DOING NOTHING! VERY FUCKING SUCCESSFULLY! [Final energetic guitar riff] [Outro – contented melodic vocal] Midnight. Did absolutely nothing. Ten out of ten. Would do again.
