There is nothing lonelier than wanting to be alone
They are queuing at my door to tell me
About my latest work
Asking what I'm doing now
For advice on what to write
What's hip or in Vogue
As if I'd know, I've been talking
About myself for years

But the beer in the fridge has
More to say to me then any of them
It speaks of the quiet of loneliness
Seeping into bones numbing
Brain cells
I can feel it wash over me
It tastes of stale breath and smells of bo
It wears a shirt unbuttoned down the front
Trousers with the fly open
Sitting listening to Sibelius
Smoking cigarettes

It's like the ***** that just won't leave
You're tired of all the talking
But you know you want to do it
One more time while you can