I can sleep in a chair When the air is close And the book is hardly started You know I never pray But I might one day For those around departed
One imitation smile Curls round your glass I can see through white wine One imitation smile Curls round your lips I can see right through you
I'm modelled in wax But in good hands now I'll burn up at both ends Half dead with fatigue In a social storm I can gather all my close friends
I get the heaviest blues And the shortest fuse When the glutton party beckons My rattle is a draw On the restaurant floor They'll soon be up for seconds
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