I think I’m [bad word] enough to drive you home now
I’ll keep my mouth kept shut from under lock and key [bad word] firm, no lie
’cause all these conversations wind on and on…
Drinking champagne from a paper cup
Is never quite the same
And every sip’s moving through my eyes
And up into my brain
At half past two; about time to leave
’cause the dj’s playing rhythm and blues
sad-sorry state, stutter step to those slammin’ grooves
As I’m waiting around for you…