I’m am pretty sure how tomorrow will go
We are meeting in public for one reason
I know
Little or no chance of a raised voice
The Amber Rooms
Not my first choice
I guess I wont be the first to be dumped
In that shit hole
I’ll be left slumped
Over my big breakfast and third wake up juice
It will be game set and match
No time for deuce
That will be it, a day short of year three
It wasn’t you
It was definitely me
I really managed to screw this up
Bad
Messed up the best thing
That I ever had
You gave me the chances
Which I should have seized
Instead in the summer
I did as I pleased
And within two weeks
An incurable disease
Doubt.