A rented kitchenette
Where I lay my body down
Papers on the table, scratched
Common verses about misfortune
A glass of whisky close
Dust, ash and smoke
And a poster of her on the wall
Behind the filthy glass
A record-player on
An open book on the bed
A mute TV, melodrama
And I, without having eaten, awake
Two Hollywood cigarettes, unlit
The last dose is spilt
And I, kind of drunk,
Get out and enjoy myself in the mud
I've always been alone
I know this
I'm always alone
I'll always be
I've always been alone
I know this
I'm always alone
I'll always be
I've always been alone
I know this
I'm always alone
I'll always be