Waiting for the kettle to boil my soul

Ah, hung over again and in pain

Echoes of last night’s mad laughter

Strumming guitar round Tesco Albert hall

Horrifying late night shoppers with jazz blues

But our money was good enough to get wrecked on

Cheep beer and wine we finished the vodka early

Too far gone to see the intricate chessboard

Playing intense to the bitter end with wild eyes

Mastering the art of war and talking Napoleon

We searched for invisible lighters to light important cigarettes

Our failed attempts at telepathy were inevitable

I lost every hand because the deck was shuffled against me shithead

Trumps and blackjack but never for money we drank all the money

And ate surprise pasta at 2am and then discovered more wine

Walking homewards serenading tipsy Spaniards in the park

I reminded them of the devil they invited me back I was tempted

But the sun was on the up and I was frightened of the light

So I made disgusting pancakes and dusted everything with flour

Before I went to bed and woke up in agony without tobacco

Smoking the ashtray and waiting for the kettle to boil my soul