More DePalma, Less Fellini

Here I am drunk at 3 AM

Got my second bottle down

I got 12 to 15 pages

of my desperation

Cold I feel so poor and old

And I'm maddened for your flesh

But my bodys broken down

In the fading twilight

I will find a way

Im gonna find a way

While the fear of wasted years

Keeps laughing just behind

Alone no one will stay with me

No an angel of despair

To watch me as I rot

And the radio keeps playing

Down for days I make no sound

Soon the rats and carrion

Will rip the flesh away

From legs and wrists and head

I make promises that I'd never describe

This sense of waiting out the end

So pour another glass

And one more virgin page

just might get lucky

And maybe I'll get good

at 3am

So here I am