Lost Weekend

It took a lost weekend in a hotel in Amsterdam

and double pneumonia in a single room.

And the sickest joke was the price of the medicine.

Are you laughing at me now?

May I please laugh along with you?

This morning I woke up from a deep, unquiet sleep

with ashtray clothes and this lonelyheart`s pen

with which I wrote for you a lovesong in tattoo

upon my palm.

'Twas stolen from me when Jesus took my hand.

You see I - I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.

Drop me and I`ll fall to pieces so easily

I was a king bee with a head full of attitude.

Wore my heart on my sleeve like a stain

and my aim was to prove you

could remain in the marketplace.

Did i ever hey please, did you wound my knees?

you see I - I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.

Drop me and I`ll fall to pieces.

Yeah too easily.

There's nobody else to blame.

I hang my head in a crying shame.

There is nobody else to blame.

Nobody else 'cept my sweet self.

It took a lost weekend in a hotel in Amsterdam.

Twenty four gone years to conclude in tears

and the sickest joke was the price of the medicine.

Are you laughing at me now?

May I please laugh along?

I was a king bee with a head full of attitude.

An ashtray heart on my sleeve, wounded knees.

And my one love song was a tattoo upon my palm.

You wrote upon me when you took my hand.

You see I - I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.

Drop me and I`ll fall to pieces too easily.

Too easily.

Too easily.