We all felt a little pegged that morning after. Pegged to the line, as they say. Or perhaps some might say someday, as part of the newspeak. A generic phrase forged some sunny afternoon between Muggins, myself, and Dan, thinking of a variety of new slang and generally observing the backyard washing line.
Emotions ran high, burnt hot. Goodbyes to Mel & James again, off to become Londoners, pick football teams, get into bar brawls. Some prophecy looms that they'll be back before six months is through, though we wish them all the best on their journey across the pond.
And so, still strung out, we hang, out to dry, on the line, pegged, waiting for our day in the sun.
And maybe I seem a bit confused. Well, maybe.. but I got you pegged
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