Leave the paper on the chair

Don’t even  bother to comb your hair

Or look in the mirror

There’s nobody there

It’s Tuesday morning

Wake your head

You’ll be running tonight you said

From whisky sheets upon your bed

 

Tie your shoes with bits of string

Luggage clothes

You’re getting so thin

Look in your pockets

There’s nobody in

You’re gin-tongue-tied

It’s a matter of time

Your rent’s in arrears

Your socks are in wine

Just one last drop

And it’s over this time