Knives out for champagne Sammy A body fit for in thrift-store suits Oversize raincoat Gaiters on his too-tight boots Hung out at the chess park With the rotten fruit and the rough recruits Good morning to your nightcap Good evening to your digestif Keep a glass of brandy handy As consolation for your grief Staying drunk is a Ponzi scheme Borrowing time from the next day Wade across the flooded street Never know who or what you'll have to pay It's not where you hang out, it's where you don't It's not what you'll do, it's what you won't I'm not a monster myself, but I know a few He's the last friend you'll ever have I'm just warning you You reflect me, and I respect that Said the mirror to the magazine Page 3 to read your future Page 35 to make a scene And if you got to play with fire Just rescue something from the blaze And if he fancies a day jar Secure yourself some fancy days When he fancies a day jar He gets it at the duty free And what he would call his duty Is what we would call complicity