The Real Damage I woke up on a sofa in an unfamiliar house, Surrounded by sleeping folks that I didn’t know. On failing to find my friends, I decided that it was clearly time to go. So I made my way out of the door as quietly as I could – There was no one there I knew to say goodbye – Squinting in the sadly sobering sunshine of the Sunday morning light. I started the night with all my friends and I ended up alone, Oh yes I started out so happy now I’m hung-over and down. It was about then that I realized I was half-way through The best years of my life. So I scanned the local landmarks, trying to find out where I was, And maybe even find a bus back home. I was longing for a shower, and for clean sheets, and a charger for my phone. And suddenly it hit me that I got paid this Friday last And so I rifled through my pockets for some change. But all I found was a packet of broken cigarettes and sinking sense of shame. I had to ask myself, well, Is it really worth it? Is any of this worth it? Well the whole thing’s far from perfect, But I’ve yet to figure out a better way to spend my time. Too many suits and dirty looks made me rack my brains, And the real damage started to sink in. It’d been quite a heavy weekend, but I could just about remember where I’d been. I stood on a street corner, and I felt a little sick. It was about then that I realized I was half-way through The first day of the week. Sea Legs Moving, keep moving, the tour never stops. In the light of petrol stations and cheap corner shops I have finally figured a list of the things that I've got, And the things that I'm not. I need you, I need you, I need you to care, When I'm moving it's soothing to know that you're there, And that when I get home I can breathe you like heady fresh air, For as long as I dare. Honey I'm sorry, but I've got my sea legs again. If I stand on dry land for a minute, I feel sick and then I have to start moving again. From Glasgow to Moscow, from London to Lille, Sat on the platform or next to the wheel, I haven't got space on this postcard to say how I feel, But that was the deal. I miss you, I miss you, but I don't ask your help. When I'm out on the road I look out for myself; I look after my guitar, my clothes and my wallet, my health, And nothing else. You're on my phone again, well, What do you want me to say, When I'm this far away? And you don't know where I am, well, You're not the only one. I am lost and I'm gone away (Oh Darling Thou Pluckest Me Out) And I don't even know where you are (Oh Darling Thou Pluckest Me Out) And I don't even know who you are anymore. Back To Sleep Slumber-blind I speak my mind When I'm out cold (or so I'm told) And so I'm scared to rest my head in company. You're not scared of words unsaid, You close your eyes, say your goodbyes And so I'm left to watch you drift away from me So peacefully. And I'm just looking for the person Who will smile at all my questions, Who will tell me I'm just tired, and then send me Back to sleep. You stole the covers in the night, You turned away, turned out the light, But it's OK because I'm already miles away. Sunshine State I remember the day - the day when I had to take you to the airport And put you on a plane, and so you left me. Left me alone on an empty tube train, deep under the ground, While you were bathed in sunlight, high above the clouds. I needed you here to be my sunshine in London town. California's had more than its fair share. You left me to these small skies, and to rain-soaked concrete, To Morrissey and Robert Smith and complicated streets I know, On which you lost your patience and your way, The way you always did on steel grey rainy days. I needed you here to be my sunshine in London town. California's had more than its fair share Of beating summer sun and shining seas, But it doesn't have a shred of honesty. I know the truth - yeah, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell were Canadians. I guess that makes sense - they had their fill and then they moved away again. You're not alone, we all sometimes use words that we don't understand. Your "love" was only just skin deep and in the end it gave me cancer. You might have been my sunshine, but I'd rather have a rainy day. California gets just what it deserves. Heartless Bastard Motherfucker Well I lie I cheat and I steal, And I don't give two shits about the way that you feel. I barely know who you are, But I'll break your heart and then I'll sleep in your car. I'm not dying inside, I'm dead. Too many people have fucked with my head, And now I'm out for revenge. I'm not the only one who regrets the way they act, But I seem to be the only one who's honest with the facts, And I'm sick to death of always being the sucker. I'm a heartless bastard motherfucker. Well you're a prize specimin - I shouldn't pick you up, I don't know where you've been. You invite me back to your place, And you feed me drinks to get me out of my face. You never own up to what you did - You fuck like an adult and you cry like a kid, And then you tell your friends I took the piss. Just for a second here with a straight face I am sick of the sinners Always making out they're saints. You know it seems to me that the ones to watch are the ones with their hearts on their sleeves - The make-up doth protest too much. So come on everybody, come on, Don't make me regret ever writing this song - I need every motherfucker to sing along.