Postcard

I think it's time that I got off the kitchen floorBut is there really any point at all?Waking up this morning felt the sameBetter sleep while life is so mundaneIt could have been yesterday that I locked the doorI blocked the windows up so I can't be sureNow I haven't even got the will to eatI'm lame and self-obsessed, that I will concedeI'd like to light a cigarette but I cannotThe lighter's dead and the gas has been cut offI'm the one you always seem to read aboutThe fire inside my eyes has long gone outThere's nothing left for me to say or do'Cause all that matters disappeared when I lost you...