Each night I crawl back out of bed, still trying to forget her or that we had ever met, but in trying to give it up all I seem to do is just give in.
Every time and time again.
I reach for the bottle in the cupboard cos it's not like it's locked away.
No-one knows what I'm up to.
Hey you I don't like your attitude.
Stand tall when the big man is talking to you.
I told you before yes I told you already.
Come on.
Reaching for it again, well it started way back when.
You laugh at suicide well I'm too tired to pretend.
Tired of thinking it's alright.
Well it's really not alright.
I used to be the victim but I kicked it in.
I was stick thin from drinking too much London gin.
Wallowing in self pity was my heroin.
Well feed me the needle and I'll stick it in.
You've got to get a little taste of what you hate just to make you know what you like.
Make hay while the sun still shines in this life.
Why can't I live life by the rules?
Cos it's much less fun.
But at least I'd get a few things done.
Does it have to be so hard to concentrate even for a short while?
I see why.
What makes you sad well it makes me smile!
I don't live my life from a negative vibe.
I'm a pessimistic misfit by design.
But I decline to bitch and to whine.
It's an itch I don't scratch bet you can't picture that cos you stand for nothing and you fall for everything well there must be something better in this life than the hole that you're buried in in the end.