Update the scotch and whiskey and pour it on my mind
I've been deranged and hungry and it's almost supper time
The nuances are lost like lambs I haven't got the fingerprints to touch
the edge of the glass sitting next to the couch
I'm tired and I'm old and made of gold and rubber stamps
Climbing all the walls at once I haven't got a chance
To leave my home in disrepair to fly into the wind
the hen escapes the henhouse
when the fox comes creeping in