F.U. - Jack

It is seven

And you put on your make-up

It is eight

And he’s waiting 'cos you’re late

Quarter past

And you wash the places

I’ll never know again

Quarter past

And you wash for some stranger’s hands

And I am dying

Sixty seconds every minute

On my fingers

I still taste it

But, these hands are lonely

Yes, these hands are wasted

I die alone and in slo-mo

Because I got what I wanted

Gone forever to a safer place than

I’ll ever be, with better luck and bluer

Eyes than me, to some place with

Better luck and handsome hands

So forever is gone

And forever was wrong

And so forever was too long

Too Long

And in the morning when I wake up

I say a little prayer

And in the evening when I wake up

I’ll say a little prayer

For you…

For you…