It´s Boxing Night
I celebrate in style
Boxer shorts and spirits floor littered with ghosts of bottles past

There´s a naked hush
Hold only a breath and a pulse
Of a heart that was kicking as though it is desperate to be born

And I´m hostage blind
Deaf to the din outside
Good Glasgow could burn to it´s timber tonight and I´d barely blink an eye

Well the clock just stopped
You can cut that into my headstone
Won´t something move so I stop staring a hole into the phone?

You can get me at home
With a drink to ill health
Just me and these walls
And a beaten up chair
On Boxing Day

This is Boxing Night
And someone lost an eye
Well I swear I´ve lost the last drop of whatever kept me awake alive

Well I fell in the Forth from a heavy right hook
To a blushed and swollen face
And in a single blow it´s murdered and then it takes years to waste away

I can´t call you all mine anymore
Oh I can´t call you fullstop
But you know you can call me up
Any time call me
Whatever the fuck you want

You can get me at home
With a drink to ill health
Just me and these walls
And a beaten up chair
You can get me at home
With a drink to ill health
Just me and these walls
And my beaten up chair
On Boxing Day