Lost Weekend

It took a lost weekend in a hotel in Amsterdam
and double pneumonia in a single room.
And the sickest joke was the price of the medicine.
Are you laughing at me now?
May I please laugh along with you?

This morning I woke up from a deep, unquiet sleep
with ashtray clothes and this lonelyheart`s pen
with which I wrote for you a lovesong in tattoo
upon my palm.
'Twas stolen from me when Jesus took my hand.
You see I - I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.
Drop me and I`ll fall to pieces so easily

I was a king bee with a head full of attitude.
Wore my heart on my sleeve like a stain
and my aim was to prove you
could remain in the marketplace.
Did i ever hey please, did you wound my knees?
you see I - I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.
Drop me and I`ll fall to pieces.
Yeah too easily.
There's nobody else to blame.
I hang my head in a crying shame.
There is nobody else to blame.
Nobody else 'cept my sweet self.

It took a lost weekend in a hotel in Amsterdam.
Twenty four gone years to conclude in tears
and the sickest joke was the price of the medicine.
Are you laughing at me now?
May I please laugh along?

I was a king bee with a head full of attitude.
An ashtray heart on my sleeve, wounded knees.
And my one love song was a tattoo upon my palm.
You wrote upon me when you took my hand.
You see I - I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.
Drop me and I`ll fall to pieces too easily.
Too easily.
Too easily.