Perk Up, Lads!

Give me one more chance…
I will never trifle with your love ever again…

*… or sort of…*

For the nth time that morning, one scoffed silently while trying to block these intrusions mentally as the nth busker sang his blues. He looked miserable, apparently enacting the lyrics of regrets he recited. His voice, obviously staged, trembled as one’s would on a very cold night inside the aquarium —the on-air room. If he had thought this would move one to give him money, he should look elsewhere. One had had enough of these pathetic songs ruining one’s jolly sunday mornings.

What had happened to the pop music landscape anyway! As one looked right and left while walking around the sunday morning marketplace, one encountered countless buskers singing of broken hearts, betrayals, regrets, and those ‘angsts and agonies of adolescence’.

Please, come back…
I can’t live without you…

And one screamed.

…. Really, lads! It’s sunday morning. The sun is up. The sky is clear. The day is bright. Lighten up!


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