Glue your butt to the stool
and commune with the foam.
Well it´s getting near closing time,
but you don´t want to go home.
So you down a pint
and then one for the road.
When you´re cut to the bone,
it takes a lot to feel whole.

Then the daylight intrudes,
comes to wake up the dead.
The impetuous morning sun
crawls right into your bed.
So you turn away
and you bury your head.
When you´re cut to the bone,
sunlight fills you with dread

All your fears realized.
All those secrets you can´t disguise.

Then the daylight recedes
and you´re restless again.
So you find yourself wandering,
don´t know where don´t know when.
What´s around the bend
is forever obscure
When you´re cut to the bone
it don´t matter no more

© 2009 Barry Smith