I'll try a new kind of new song.
I'm just getting sicker and sicker.
Yes, baby.
I've been drinking.
I shouldn't come by, I know.
But I found myself in trouble, darling.
And I had nowhere else to go.
Got some whiskey.
From the bombing.
Had some cocaine.
From a friend.
Said I had to keep on moving, baby.
Said I wasn't back in your arms again.
I'm guilty, honey, I'm guilty.
And I'll be guilty all the rest of my life.
How come I never do what I'm supposed to do?
How come nothing that I try to do ever turns out right?
You know how it is with me, baby.
You know I just can't stand myself.
It takes a whole lot of medicine, darling, for me to pretend that I'm somebody else.
Thank you.
