Always at the foot of the photograph
That's me there, snug as a thug
In a mugshot pose, a foul-mouthed rogue
Owner of this corner and not much more
Still these days I'm better placed
To get my just rewards
I'll pound out a tune and very soon
I'll have too much to say and a dead stupid name
And though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran
Of "oh, I like your poetry but I hate your poems"
Calendars crumble, I'm knee deep in numbers
I've turned 21, I've twist, I'm bust and wrong again
Rubbing shoulders with the sheets till two
Looking at my watch and I'm half-past caring
In the lap of luxury, it comes to mind
Is this headboard hard? Am I a lap behind?
But to face doom in a sock-stenched room
All by myself
Is the kind of fate I never contemplate
Lots of people would cry, though none spring to mind
And though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran
Of "oh, I like your poetry but I hate your poems"
Calendars crumble, I'm knee deep in numbers
I've turned 21, I've twist, I'm bust and wrong again
Know what it's like to sigh at the sight
Of the first quarter of life?
Ever stopped to think and found out nothing was there?
They laugh to see such fun
I'm playing blind man's bluff all by myself
And they're chanting a line from a nursery rhyme
"Ba ba bleary eyes – have you any idea?"
Years of learning I must be a veteran
Of "oh, I like your poetry but I hate your poems"
And the calendar's cluttered with days that are numbered
I've turned 21, I've twist, I'm bust and wrong again
(Ought to be learning)
Twist, I'm bust and wrong again
(Feel like a veteran)
Twist, I'm bust and wrong again
(Calendar's cluttered)
With (days that are numbered)
Ooh, and I know what it's like to sigh at the sight
Of the first quarter of life
I know what it's like