So it's just the pills and me.
Guy Clarke, Prefab Sprout.
Silk Cut.
The rain scratching windows,
of a Saturday night.
I could pick up the phone.
Talk to a friend.
In LA.
CA.
Basildon.
Wakefield.
Wherever.
But it's you that I haunt.
With that addict conviction.
It's every serenity prayer.
That I choke on.
Accept, accept accept.
These things,
that I cannot change.
