I feel tired of passing out before dark And losing a vital spark of my childhood charm It was fun but now I've turned into a bore No more hospital wards And I owe you one. I could've let you slip through my fingers Sleepless Sundays put through the wringer It's something I wanna do But they doubt that I'll see it through I'm half convinced that's how things are gonna be. At times we're all invaded by doubt A desire to blow out, a flickering flame No shame, a drunken reverie No pain, till you're a memory Though I've never been the king of moderation I did upset you when I was on a winner And will I still shine in your eyes as my hair gets thinner It's something I wanna do But they doubt that I'll see it through I'm half convinced that's how things are gonna be.