Now we're stretched out in wide, furry seats
Drive into Manhattan on a date with a starlet who's just talent
Exclusively for arseholes
A $2,000 bar bill
We try and talk for the first time in a long time
Anything you want to do?
Anyone hungry?
We use the rent money to pay the bill
Los Angeles, eight days in
We nod our heads earnestly
Just aches in the morning
And everything seems silent and beautiful
A guy's face hits the floor
Limbs flaying, hands searching for something to steady
Decanters of cheap whiskey in our hands
And back in London on a cold Friday night
Do you want another drink?
Laughing at what?
Police revolvers glistening in the streetlight
We're standing on our heads drinking sours of Crystel Schnapps
You shiver, it made you feel sick
We turn this corner to a way that takes us wherever up to sunset
Always there to be interested in what you have say
The joy of seein' all those colors and shapes reflect in her wide eyes
Five hours now it's been going on
Tasting it again, it's not so unpleasant
All the friends we've made
Sitting in front of smoked windows
Drunken confession
Who're we to argue?
And still we're watchin' all of it
When do you lose the ability to step back
600 yards, twenty minutes later
How we're used to living
The limousine's still waiting outside
Jesus, how long have I been in this state?
And tonight? Well, a nod of our heads, and we're inside
We are artists, we are sensitive and important
And get a sense of your own ridiculousness?
Midnight, and it's all over
Dreaming of pushing my daughter around the supermarket
The vodka running out half-way across the Atlantic
Or the one Morrison hung out the window
The suite Belushi died in
Now it can really make us laugh
Then, little by little, it becomes delicious
As we can drink, we're so easy
Perhaps it's an acquired taste
That's what people pay the money to see
Flicking through menus
A walk to the bar and there's as much screw-top champagne
We're sittin', chasin' the conservation around the table
My head leaning on the window
Open the champagne, one sip and it's left to wake up to
We're on our way to the airport and a plane to Vegas
It's 2 a.m., it's closing time at the Dresden
Oh, I'll go for Jim's
No one seems to notice
I would fancy a hotel window-hanging, myself tonight, man
Even the steward screamed and joined in it
Onto Melrose and lurching through a sea of Halloween transvestites
Falling down the red, velvety stairs
So many nights lying in bed shaking
Bumping shoulders, we stumble out into Soho
Can he really lie in bed at night and marvel at his own genius?
Oh, the irony
Marty and Layton play one last sleepy "Strangers in the Night"
And our sense of irony's running pretty thin
An exclusive door policy
I find a table, champagne arrives
Perhaps we could make it to the Atlantic
Taking turns having our photos taken
Well, I could try
We creep up the drive to the Shattuck
Showbiz people
The flight's canceled, but it doesn't matter
And we're driving through the empty L.A. streets
Already half-way down the champagne
We didn't think we were going to make it
Pick ourselves up, nothing broken
They're only songs
Swallowing a swallow
The first time, it makes you sick
Straight over to the mini-bar
Anywhere you want to go?
We're pushing through the waiting crowd, all fish eyes
Lay out an elaborate table for all us to ignore
Now we're unable to step back or step forward
And the last of the martinis dribble down our chins
Can you really believe all this?
On our way to leaving the place dry
I've been so drunk, I sit and look at you
Showbiz picks up the tab
A team of uniformed waiters
And we're on our way laughing
Slipping over the sleeping bags
