Woke up this morning, my lover’s gone away. Fled to the country, learned that they couldn’t stay. The door wide open, sterling on the shelf. Things won’t get better. I ought to kill me-self. Walked down to the pub and served ’em drinks all day. Still need more money to make my debts get paid. The clock, she is ticking. Job filled with strife. Why serve these drunkards? I’d better end me life. All out of Guinness, I should choose suicide. The tap’s gone barren, the patrons mortified. The barflies, they argue. So combatative. Earned me-self a shiner, I wonder why I live. Woke up on Monday, Jesus kill me now. Won’t leave my bedroom, there’s no way no how. Uh… sh***…f**… sh***…dammit…bollocks…f****in’ c***. God damn the English… I hate to be so blunt. I hate to be so blunt. F***in’ blimey bastards.