Remember him, when he was young
The gleam was in his eyes
Full of bright idea
Chasing castles in the skies
Now he doesn't look so young
And his eyes have turned to red
He's only got one set of clothes
He's got the park bench for a bed
And he's turned to the bottle
Lost all his pride
As the whiskey comes to claim his soul
Slow motion suicide
Recall the day when he left school
He went to mine for coal
But that was Thatcher's 80's
And he landed on the dole
They was hard up in the north
The industries closed down
But who employs the miner
When theres no mines to be found?
And he's turned to the bottle
Lost all his pride
As the whiskey comes to claim his soul
Slow motion suicide
What happened to his darling wife?
They used to have such fun
The drinking and the violence
Made her pack her bags and run
Now he walks a lonely road
He's always turned away
Drinking to the early grave
It gets badder day by day
And he's turned to the bottle
Lost all his pride
As the whiskey comes to claim his soul
Slow motion suicide
Now he looks at his whole life
Through the bottom of the glass
Just a man down on his luck
And he swears this one's his last
But tomorrow you will see him out
With a bottle in his hand
Screaming words of drunkeness
But no one understands
Why he's turned to the bottle
Lost all his pride
As the whiskey comes to claim his soul
Slow motion suicide
In this eyes you see no pride
Hell mercy by his side
The empty bottle he tries to hide
Oh, no