Let's see how much I can remember.

I burned my fingers on the coffe pot
Toast is cold and the orange jiuce is hot
I should start over but I'd really rather not.
Same thing gonna happen again
That's the bag I'm in

You know last night as I walking down the street
Whistlin' the blues to the tapping of my feet
Some old pranks called the cops on the beat
It'll happen every time

Every morning when I get up
Miss my connection, and I'm late for work again
You know they'll probably drop the atom bomb the day my ship comes in
(write your own lyric here, 'cause I can't remember - something about getting off again)
Somehow I just can't win
And that's the bag I'm in.

dw