Livre III

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You are the last drink I never should have drunk

You are the body hidden in a trunk

You are the habit I can’t seem to kick

You are my secrets on the front page every week

You are the car I never should have bought

You are the dream I never should have caught

You are the cut that makes me hide my face

You are the party that makes me feel my age

You’re like a car crash I can see but I just can’t avoid

Like a plane I’ve been told I never should board

Like a film that’s so bad but I gotta stay till the end

Let me tell you now — it’s lucky for you that we’re friends.

Pulp, Like a Friend

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