Sometimes I hear your whistle as I walk the dogs across the skateboard park, And though I know you've gone uptown I look for you in every doorway on St Mark's, Cause even though I'm not a canine, and my bark is usually benign, Whatever I'm sniffing I'll drop and come running for you. I once said that "I'm not an alcoholic. There's just always something to be celebrated". Well true to form I'm pretty woozy this morning, cause last night I was inebriated.
You're next to me so everything must be alright, You're next to me so I must have made it home last night, It can't have been too mortifying, though I do remember trying a handstand against a mirrored wall.
But "Oh I love, you let me", And didn't then forget me But took me home so tell me did I fall?
You're next to me, so nothing really matters anyway. You're next to me, and I feel like I'm on my holidays
And I mean that the British way like lying on a beach sipping through the alcohol, Not the American way which involves religion and is absolutely no fun at all. Not that I mean to demean your lovely nation after all it made you and you're a sensation. The jubilation of our present situation could make me lose the urge for any form of masturbation It's sensational; that you are next to me, so everything must be alright.
You are next to me, so I must have made it home last night. You are next to me, so nothing really matters anyway. You are next to me, and I feel like I'm on my holidays.