Always at the foot Of the photograph That's me there Snug as a thug In a mugshot pose A foul mouthed rogue
Owner of this corner And not much more Still these days I'm better placed To get my just rewards
I'll pound out a tune And very soon I'll have too much to say And a dead stupid name
Though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran Of 'Oh, I like your poetry But I hate your poems'
Calendars crumble I'm knee deep in numbers I've turned twenty one, I've twist I'm bust and wrong again
Rubbing shoulders With the sheets till two Looking at my watch And I'm half past caring
In the lap of luxury It comes to mind Is this headboard hard? Am I a lap behind?
But to face doom In a sock stenched room All by myself Is the kind of fate I never contemplate Lots of people would cry Though none spring to mind
Though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran Of 'Oh, I like your poetry But I hate your poems'
Calendars crumble I'm knee deep in numbers I've turned twenty one, I've twist I'm bust and wrong again
Know what it's like To sigh at the sight Of the first quarter of life? Ever stopped to think And found out Nothing was there?
They laugh to see such fun I'm playing blind man's bluff All by myself And they're chanting A line from a nursery rhyme 'Ba ba bleary eyes Have you any idea?"
Years of learning I must be a veteran Of 'Oh, I like your poetry But I hate your poems'
And the calendar's cluttered With days that are numbered I've turned twenty one, I've twist I'm bust and wrong again
Ought to be learning, twist I'm bust and wrong again Feel like a veteran, twist I'm bust and wrong again
Calendar's cluttered With days that are numbered And I know what it's like To sigh at the sight Of the first quarter of life