Just a tea cup of sleep. 

Punch drunk.

No a great lead in to Wanda's great but, sad poem. 

In love with the pictures painted.

The Saturday Afternoon Blues

Wanda Coleman   

can kill you

can fade your life away

friends are all out shopping

ain’t nobody home

suicide hotline is busy

and here i am on my own

with a pill and a bottle for company

and heart full of been done wrong

i’m a candidate for the coroner, a lyric for a song

saturday afternoons are killers

when the air is brisk and warm

ol’ sun he steady whispers

soon the life you know will be done

suicide line i can’t get you

best friend out of town

alone with a pill and a bottle

i drink my troubles down

the man i love is a killer

the man i love is  thief

the man i love is a junky

the man i love is grief

some call saturday the sabbath

it’s the bottom of the line some say

whether last or first, my heart’s gonna burst

and there ain’t no help my way

here with a pill and a bottle

and a life full of been done wrong

i’m a candidate for the coroner, a lyric

for a song