Kloncke

Good morning, heartache
You old gloomy sight
Good morning, heartache
Thought we said goodbye last night
I tossed and turned until it seemed you had gone
But here you are with the dawn

Wish I’d forget you
But you’re here to stay
It seems I met you
When my love went away
Now every day I start by saying to you
Good morning, heartache, what’s new?

Stop haunting me now
Can’t chase you no how
Just leave me alone
I’ve got those Monday Blues
Straight through Sunday blues

Good morning, heartache
Here we go again
Good morning heartache
You’re the one who knew me when
Might as well get used to you hanging around
Good morning, heartache — sit down

Stop haunting me now
Can’t chase you no how
Just leave me alone
I’ve got those Monday Blues
Straight through Sunday blues

Good morning, heartache
Here we go again
Good morning, heartache
You’re the one who knew me when
Might as well get used to you hanging around
Good morning, heartache — sit down

Reminds me of that famous poem by Rumi:

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.