Baxter Dury
The Night Chancers
You left me with the crumbs of my spare thoughts
You left me with the noise of the night chancers
Good cheer to the wee-hours

You left me at Hotel Amour
Boring stories is all I need
The fine-wine-diners tryna prize money from me

Prizing money from imaginary donors
Past the point of relevance that's all i see
And I'm crazy eyed, tryna sleep

You left me with the crumbs of my spare thoughts
You left me with the noise of the night chancers
Good cheer to the wee-hours

My hands are dripping in cold, cold coffee
And the crumbs are stuck to my optics
You left me
You called me from a taxi telling me how good I can be
And how much you miss me
But you're a kilometer away

You left me with the crumbs of my spare thoughts
You left me with the noise of the night chancers
Good cheer to the wee-hours
You left me with the crumbs of my spare thoughts
You left me with the noise of the night chancers
Good cheer to the wee-hours

(Oh!)

Leaving, laughing
(unintelligible)
You can't ask me that