Skinny boy, somewhere, some prostitution
And there you are on the fence
It's sordid and I can't find my feet
Friday, Saturday, only me
Will, you will wait up for me
They're coming with swords through the back door
Some devour, some doubt, some dance
When its done ill drink champagne to the lonely
With those lips I could spend a day with
Monday, Tuesday, so lonely
Wednesday, Thursday, only me
And you've got lips I could spend a day with
Lonely in me