In 1990, a young lady lies there
She\'s fucking slumped, head upon a stair.
The world is lost through her beer glasses
Whilst stupid lads make pass after passes
Because \"if she\'s pissed, she can\'t say no!\"
The aftermath awaits; poor thing doesn\'t know
They left her lying cold in her bikini
Her breath stinking of a Vermouth Martini
13 years have passed, ain\'t so young anymore,
Her life\'s spiralled into a pissing bore. An
Office job in the middle of the city
9 to 5, her boss and co workers are shitty
In terms of empathy and general people skill
So a hidden black hip flask is her only thrill
She waits til 1.02pm to do something risky
Her lips love the burn of fireball whiskey
Doesn\'t have too many mates, scarred by men
She jumps whenever the clock strikes ten.
Gets a text, goes out, breathes in, leaves home
For wine, a fucking natter and a fucking moan
Which actually turns into bottle after bottle
Into vomit and a headache, full throttle.
The morning after, she takes a berrocca
Necks shot after shot of Russian Standard vodka.
The only man she ever did love
Left her ten years prior because she\'d shove
All kinds of drink down into her gob
\"You\'re killing yourself, you fucking knob!\"
She adored him more than she adored herself
He cared more than to see her lose her health
So she drowns her sorrows, lonely sin after sin
And she weeps into her dry Bombay gin
37 years later, lucky she\'s made it this far.
With a mouth full of dentures, she puffs at a cigar
Thinking back to that \'orrid night in her teens
Where those lads hurt her, but by no means
Did she let it become her, God no no no.
Her addiction is now her, it\'s never gonna go.
Drink is her sugar, but it\'s really cyanide
It\'s caused the brave, strong woman inside to hide.
Over a pint she thinks of happier times,
Of when she was teeny - weeny,
Closes her eyes and wishes, she bloody wishes,
She\'d never drank that Vermouth Martini