Through a long and sleepless night
I thought upon the jury's plight
If what is wrong can feel so right
Then life's no longer black and white
It's four o'clock and all's not well
In my private circle of hell
I contemplate my navel hair
And slowly slide into despair
This rut has fast become a trench
This smell has turned into the stench
Of rotten dreams and stale ideals
The past is snapping at my heels
Oh Danny Boy the pipes are blocked
With bedtime blues and future shock
I know the best is yet to come
But does it always take this long?
I can put on the perfume, even wear the dress sometimes
But I'll always be the bridegroom and never the bride
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