Flimsy Excuse

The air was gooey like Saint Louis Where you played in sludgey bars Sweet Fijian blokes and Ginsberg quotes On guard with folded arms An old trombone, stripped down kit Sweet trouble quick as peppermint Miserable without you near It's almost like you're here It's a flimsy excuse you made For why you wound up here You should have stayed At the top But you wound up down here Smashed another stage another dream Time works hard, that mother's mean Vision blurs, upstairs is bare Polished clean, old Mr Sheen In the band room you forgot your bag Fell asleep lips wrapped around a fag Set that smokey place on fire Every time you took a drag It's a flimsy excuse you made For why you wound up here You should have stayed At the top But you wound up down here Well you're staring in cracks of mirrors And you wake up with a shake In the past you're doing cartwheels Yeah, endless with mistakes Spent your dreams on Benzedrine Baked as a birthday cake Now it's time to put your trousers on And put away that snake It's a flimsy excuse you made Why you wound up here You should have stayed At the top But you wound up down here