I met her last september
in the creeping cold, wet, london grey,
she said her name was tanya
and she spoke of growing old together
by the time it turned november
she was on a one way flight to hamburg
emptied out the bank account
pin code was my date of birth,
date of birth
And I’m still hanging on
for an explanation
reality may sting,
but denial is a beautiful thing
At my empty flat in peckham
I would drink myself to sleep for days
smoke a dozen packs of gitannes
and i’d disappear lost in the haze
I convinced myself that i could kick my habits
tomorrow or next week
but wastedness is far more fun
and god knows it’s a beautiful thing,
beautiful thing
And I’m still hanging on
for a destination
emptiness is king
but denial is a beautiful thing
24/12/11
