Postcard

I think it's time that I got off the kitchen floor

But is there really any point at all?

Waking up this morning felt the same

Better sleep while life is so mundane

It could have been yesterday that I locked the door

I blocked the windows up so I can't be sure

Now I haven't even got the will to eat

I'm lame and self-obsessed, that I will concede

I'd like to light a cigarette but I cannot

The lighter's dead and the gas has been cut off

I'm the one you always seem to read about

The fire inside my eyes has long gone out

There's nothing left for me to say or do

'Cause all that matters disappeared when I lost you