In the end will it matter that you've gone ?
In the end will I go on minding that you've gone ?
Will the night always seem so long,
Is it really darkest before dawn ?
Will I see whiskey as a Mother In the end ?
In the end will I smash my brains with drinking
Till I fall down on the floor,
Will I hiccup and jabber,
Saying things I never meant ?
Will I kiss and cry and wake to find
A sordid stranger by my bed ?
Will the world shake its sensible head
And say the words that have to be said:
