I slow down purple avenues
To march around in April shoes
Weather vanes remind
Of the summer times that I've left behind
Money's gone for Auld Lang Syne
I spent on Eastern Standard Time
Whatever happened to my roll
September fell right through the hole
All I've got is empty pockets now

And why does August try so hard
To hoist me on my own petard?
I've learned one thing from loving her
That an ounce of prevention's worth a pound of cure
And the shadows fall, but I cannot thread
The tenor of the things you've said
All that's left is flesh and bone
The lights are on, no one's home
All I've got is empty pockets now

I spill myself another drink
I count the whiskers in the sink
The orchestra is blind
But I've never been the worrying kind
Subsequently and furthermore
I'll sleep right here on the draining board
I will never be paroled
I like to drink them while they're cold
And all I've got is empty pockets now