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Sydney
Agnes Manners
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Here's to the patron saint
Of rum and jumped cocaine
All those little deaths
Have grown so petulant
And now I'm not thinkin' straight
Burnin' in the sky
For two days at a time
Oh, but when I look around
It's so conspiratorial
Competitive and typical
Oh, my darlin'
There's been nothin' here
But a rumour mill so high
And wide it covered all the light
If all we have, is each other
Don't you dare look down on me
Like we're so different suddenly
Here's to the patron saint
Of rum and jumped cocaine
Where the fuck are all my friends?
What's left of my common sense?
What's left?
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