The Small Hours
It's a little too early for last orders
But it's a little too late for me to stay
And the barman doesn't want to know
So I'll go away

Get lost in all my little secret histories
While trying to write a fresh page in this book
But the drink takes the piss out of my sadness
Made out a silence that your voice had broken
There's not much too break when you've grown up

Maybe I should be afraid
Cos when you look at me
Things get a little weird
I think I
Should leave

Spend the night staring at the telephone
Wishing that I had the balls to call
But I think I'll just pour another class
And curse your name under my breath and make my
Way into my bed and grab my crotch and tease out all the
Fun we used to have
The walls start to breathing and my stomach starts screaming
And I puke into the small hours and die