Sitting in a mess still undressed. As the kettle whistle blows. Paper back Novelette still open. And the door is closed. You got a real sick mind. You write a column for the times. For all the lovers gone blind. Who are looking for a sign. And when the night is over and the drugs are gone. All you've got is your four leaf clover. You keep inside your coat. And when the night is over and the drugs are gone. You feel the world is getting colder. You got no one to hold. Six pages down and she's lighting up. Her train wreck Soul. She was abandoned by her lover. Left by the road. So Apalling scrawling those bull shit words. It's thirsty work. She'll stumble down to the boozer. Just to have a flirt. You got a real sick mind. You write a column for the times. For all the lovers gone blind. Who are looking for a sign. And when the night is over and the drugs are gone. All you've got is your four leaf clover. You keep inside your coat. And when the night is over and the drugs are gone. You feel the world is getting colder. You got no one to hold you got no one to hold. You got a real sick mind. You got a real sick mind. And when the night is over and the drugs are gone. All you've got is your four leaf clover. You keep inside your coat. And when the night is over and the drugs are gone. You feel the world is getting colder. You got no one to hold. You got no one to hold. You got not one to hold