The light's a-blinding, The streets a-winding, Stuck in a city, My teeth a-grinding. The sun's long gone, And the moon`s not yet out There's a multitude wrong And your own self to doubt The picture's all wrong Although no one will say so; There's multiple shadows And my own orange halo. I've got too much to loose By being a loser. Too much to choose from But IÍm not a chooser. A fickle curled fish On the palm of a hand. A dry bench to sit on But the option to stand. The alcohol`s rising, It's lighter than blood, Thicker than air, But lighter than cod. The chips in my stomach Are churning like butter As a hand holds my arm And a mouth starts to stutter, Why are you like this? What's with the switch? Why did you screw up then? You know we're not rich. I push him away But he sticks like glue. He can't get the picture: "We're" just "Me" and "You." Dawn comes early. I ring up my mum. She sounds sympathetic, Her words are: "Just come."
