There’s an ugly little pinch at the back of my ear,
What did I say exactly, she’s gone for good, I fear.
After the *****, the stagger, the cab,
I found myself on the couch, adding up the tab.
Flashbacks with nightmares of nasty words,
How could I say that to her! I’m no expert with girls.
The beer and the spirits owe me no favours
And when all’s said, they’re all the same flavour.
The flavour is bitterness, regret and despair,
Fuel for the morning after and pulling out hair,
Out of one’s own head for being so thoughtless
Am I pushing myself to a life that’s loveless?
So I’ll say “Never again” and push for the weekend.
But throughout the week, my resolve becomes weakened.
Until Thursday, I’ll give in and go for “a couple”.
Sick of pints by Friday, I’ll go on the doubles.
So again comes Sunday, she’s still with me.
Her pillow is wet and smudged, my throat is dry.
I can’t lose the memory of that pathetic cry.
I did it again, I let the drink win.
But it’s Sunday so I’ll say “Never Again”
Drinking used to be fun