Though I'm not that great a host
Gun or noose, sober or juiced
I don't really know

I try to sleep on big decisions
And this one's immense
To bed depressed, to wake confused
But still in tact I guess

So I contemplate with nothing at stake
But with so so much to lose
Tilt the hammer back and rest on steel
Whilst I start on the booze

Can't we just talk this through
Just me and myself, just me and you
Save it all for another day
Perhaps prolong these destructive tastes
Yes, that's it! Procrastinate
Self preserved by putting off fate
Mission on, problem solved
And Mr Gun was never involved

Because:

I'd rather go off on a limb
Than be offed on a whim
And ascend to green
Before the fall to red
Yes sir, better to sleep it off
Than wake up dead.

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