Middle of the Day
“It’s Wednesday around 1 o’clock. I’m sportin’ shorts and flip flops. I’m drinking, because I can.”
Middle of the Day is an anthem for the retired, the free, and the finally-unchained. No alarms, no bosses, no blood, sweat, and tears—just flip flops, cold beers, and the luxury of time. Whether it’s fishing the creek, hitting the course, or just rambling at the pool, this song celebrates the best shift of all: the shift from working to living.calls out the culture of fragility, entitlement, and safe spaces with a dose of old-school tough love. It’s a rallying cry for personal responsibility, resilience, and the forgotten art of growing a pair—because life doesn’t hand out participation trophies, and real strength comes from facing opposition, not hiding from it.
Middle of the Day
Employed no longer applies
For this happy, retired guy
It’s Wednesday around 1 o’clock
I’m sportin’ shorts and flip flops
I’m drinking, because I can
Seizing my day, without plans
Music’s cranked up on ten
Been so long, can’t remember when I
Had this much fun during the week
When forced to turn the other cheek
I’m drunk, I know I’m rambling
Don’t really care, I’m managing
It’s the middle of the day, middle of the week
I’m off to the course, or to fish the creek
It really doesn’t matter, I have the time
I’m checked out of the grind
At the pool, with a drink and a smoke
Lovin’ my life with kindred folk
I worked hard for so many years
No more blood, sweat, and tears
I go to bed whenever
Retired, only have one pressure
If you know, you know
Can’t delay when it’s time to go
My choices, they aren’t confining
Take out or fine dining
Dive bar or upscale
Cold beer or cocktails
Ev’ry hour is happy, I feel so alive
The clock on my bar is stuck on five
I’m drunk, I know I’m rambling
Don’t really care, I’m managing
It’s the middle of the day, middle of the week
I’m off to the course, or to fish the creek
It really doesn’t matter, I have the time
I’m checked out of the grind
At the pool, with a drink and a smoke
Lovin’ my life with kindred folk
I worked hard for so many years
No more blood, sweat, and tears
I may be old, but I don’t feel it
Plenty of zest and youthful spirit
Whether it’s road trip or hiking
Sailing or biking
With the wind as my only guide
Livin’ it up, before I die
With ample sleep and healthy food
Lots of vigor and a cheerful mood
To do what pleases me most
Lift my glass, that’s my toast
I’m drunk, I know I’m rambling
Don’t really care, I’m managing
It’s the middle of the day, middle of the week
I’m off to the course, or to fish the creek
It really doesn’t matter, I have the time
I’m checked out of the grind
At the pool, with a drink and a smoke
Lovin’ my life with kindred folk
I worked hard for so many years
No more blood, sweat, and tears
It’s the middle of the day, middle of the week
Retired life on full throttle
(my glass is empty, where’s that bottle?)
It’s the middle of the day, middle of the week
© 2026 Scott Songwright. All rights reserved.
