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