The fold-out mattress is a ***** tonight,
Sheets spilling over the side-
I'm awake,
Stiff in the dark,

And nothing sings on Baylis anymore,
And the silence stones me,
And I reach for a soul,
And she rolls over,

This is it.

Wasted in the summer,
Work by the morning,
Left to spoil by the night,

Writing pretty letters backwards in the bus window,
Feeling ****** when she doesn't see them,
Sixteen and blue,
Grabbing all that glitters.