Them's the breaks
Watch me crash land
On fields of idle miles
Hard worked by barren hands

Droughts of mouth
Bring doubts to love
I'm whistling drinking songs
And thinking, slowly drinking his gin
All the live long

You're perfect for taking me to heart
But I spy shades of disingenuous

A fortnight's fitful sleep on my eyes
Is there something stirring in the silence
That I might weaponise?

No fun, I touched one once
I wasn't to touch two of them, twice
You turned your weakest shoulder to me
And ask "will I suffice?"

You're perfеct for leading me on
To the stagе Tommy Cooper died on
You're perfect for taking me to heart
You're perfect for playing your part
You're precious for putting me on
But I spy shades of disingenuous