Them's the breaks

Watch me crash land

On fields of idle miles

Hard worked by barren hands

Droughts of mouth

Bring doubts to love

I'm whistling drinking songs

And thinking, slowly drinking his gin

All the live long

You're perfect for taking me to heart

But I spy shades of disingenuous

A fortnight's fitful sleep on my eyes

Is there something stirring in the silence

That I might weaponise?

No fun, I touched one once

I wasn't to touch two of them, twice

You turned your weakest shoulder to me

And ask "will I suffice?"

You're perfеct for leading me on

To the stagе Tommy Cooper died on

You're perfect for taking me to heart

You're perfect for playing your part

You're precious for putting me on

But I spy shades of disingenuous