5AM

We run into a dark room

And we spasm to the sounds

Of a copy Morrissey

Or the blues of the Deep South.

And the drugs will only hide it

The feeling never really goes

You won't find love at the bottom

Of a Class C hole.

And you don't know what you've got until it's gone.

And you don't know who to love until you're lost.

And you don't know how to feel until the moment's passed.

I wish you'd live like you're made of glass.

We've got work in the morning

But it's nearly 5am.

Is this really what we envisaged?

We won't be 21 again.

And in the haze you see colours

And problems suddenly make sense.

But the way you've been going

You'll be in an early grave.

And you don't know what you've got until it's gone.

And you don't know who to love until you're lost.

And you don't know how to feel until the moment past.

I wish you'd live like you're made of glass.