INTRO:  A5

A5                                      B5
Always at the foot of the photograph - that's me there
                    A5
Snug as a thug in a mugshot pose
B5
Owner of this corner and not much more
           A5                      D5                 E5
Still these days I'm better placed to get my just rewards
            A5
I'll pound out a tune and very soon
           D5                            E5
I'll have too much to say and a dead stupid name

CHORUS
          A5                       E5
Though I ought to be learning I feel like a veteran
     A5                      E5
Of "Oh I like your poetry but I hate your poems"
A5                      E5
Calendars crumble I'm knee deep in numbers
A5                 E5                          A5
Turned 21, I've twist, I'm bust and wrong again


Rubbing shoulders with the sheets till two
Looking at my watch and I'm half-past caring
In the lap of luxury it comes to mind
Is this headboard hard? Am I a lap behind?
But to face doom in a sock-stenched room all by myself
Is the kind of fate I never contemplate
Lots of people would cry though none spring to mind

D5
Know what it's like
To sigh at the sight of the first quarter of life?
B5                           D5
Every stopped to think and found out nothing was there?

E5                       A5
They laugh to see such fun
                           B5           D5
Playing Blind Man's Bluff all by myself
A5
And they're chanting a line from a nursery rhyme
E5                          D5
"Ba Ba Bleary Eyes - Have you any idea?"

A5                    E5         A5               E5
The calendar's cluttered with days that are numbered