Knives out for champagne Sammy
A body fit for in thrift-store suits
Oversize raincoat
Gaiters on his too-tight boots
Hung out at the chess park
With the rotten fruit and the rough recruits

Good morning to your nightcap
Good evening to your digestif
Keep a glass of brandy handy
As consolation for your grief

Staying drunk is a Ponzi scheme
Borrowing time from the next day
Wade across the flooded street
Never know who or what you’ll have to pay

It’s not where you hang out, it’s where you don’t
It’s not what you’ll do, it’s what you won’t
I’m not a monster myself, but I know a few
He’s the last friend you’ll ever have
I’m just warning you

You reflect me, and I respect that
said the mirror to the magazine
page 3 to read your future
page 35 to make a scene

And if you got to play with fire
Just rescue something from the blaze
And if he fancies a day jar
Secure yourself some fancy days

When he fancies a day jar
He gets it at the duty free
And what he would call his duty
Is what we would call complicity