Pissed too far to sit up straight,
On my way to godknowssomewhere
Trust the driver, hope and wait.
Let me buckshot my address book;
Let me trawl the men I know.
No, I can'twon't do the knowledge.
Is it dark where I must go?
If I text a do-you-love-me,
Someone out there will shout yes,
Play drunken games, excuses ready,
Find a new man by roulette.
© Simone Broome 2005