My ashtray's flowing over and the phone's left off the hook
I've been staring for three hours at the first page of a book
Day and night I keep the curtains drawn and curse the very day that I was born
And get to thinking how I need you now.
I keep staring at my wristwatch until its ticking fills the room
And the hollow sound reminds me of the silence of a tomb
And as the ceiling and the walls close in and the furniture begins to spin
I get to thinking how I need you now.
And as the days go passing by and I never get a letter
How I need you, how I need you
Days turn into weeks and it doesn't get much better
How I need you.
The gaslit streets lean slowly as I reel against the wall
And my musty head is aching as I stagger down the hall
Then I fill the broken glass once more and fling the empty bottle to the floor
And get to thinking how I need you.