Out by my corner winter has fallen

under the gin you'll find me forever faking

all types of clashes mixed up romances

spacing around the guilt

of whatever happened

I don't see anyone at all

the rest is feeling fine

It means so much to feel this small

except for the most time

I sway where I want to fall when I got to

I pick myself up to let you know that I

need none of your loving, giving or caring

perhaps I believe they're nothing to do with me

I don't see anyone

I fall down drunk each time I try at all

Back at the corner the rain is falling again

somedays seem to last as long as ten

take me, to the station, and put me in

I don;t want to pass through here again

Maybe a gutter maybe a lover

maybe a life of cheap wine and Bukowski

bars and blisters, cocky sisters

I don't even know what they mean to me