A good book is always on tap; it may be decanted and drunk a hundred times, and it is still there for further imbibement.
Holbrook Jackson
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Around the Plynth
Woken up on mornings such as this
Thought exactly the same as I'm thinking now
Every night for a year I've slept alone
Cold, damp room looks worse than me, no, no, no
Got a fear of death that creeps on every night
I know I won't die soon, but then again I might
Water down the drain, I'm wasting away
Doctors can't help the ghost of a man that's me, no, no, no
Water down the drain goes to the sea
The pattern of my life keeps a-haunting me
Moisture from the ocean fills the sky
Come on down to the ground as the time goes by
Slow down there
I never found out the reason why
My parents had to lie
About the place that I was born
Or from my hometown I was torn
At the tender age of four
I was livin' by homemade law
I never knew when it was to be laid,
My desires are never displayed,
I never knew what it was to be loved,
I never knew what it was to be laid,
I never knew what it was to win,
I never knew what it was to be loved,
No, no, no
Get on up there
I never knew what it was to be laid
No, no, no, no, no, no, no