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Boxing Night (Acoustic)

Its Boxing Night

I celebrate in style

Boxer shorts and spirits floor littered with ghosts of bottles pastTheres a naked hush

Hold only a breath and a pulse

Of a heart that was kicking as though it is desperate to be bornAnd Im hosted blind

Deaf to the din outside

Good Glasgow could burn to its bones tonight and Id barely blink an eyeWell the clock just stopped

Put back my fucking headstone

Wont something move so I stop staring a hole into the phone?You can get me at home

Ill be drinking to death

Just me and these walls

And a beaten up chair

On Boxing DayThis is Boxing Night

And someone lost an eye

Well I swear Ive lost the last drop of whatever kept me awake aliveAnd we fell in the Forth from a heavy right hook

To a blush and swollen face

And in a single blow its murdered and now it takes years to waste awayWell I cant call you online anymore

Oh I cant call you fullstop

Oh you know you can call me up

Any time call me up

For whatever the fuck you wantYou can get me at home

Ill be drinking to death

Just me and these walls

And a beaten up chair

You can get me at home

Ill be drinking to death

Just me and these walls

And my beaten up chair

On Boxing Day

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