Out by my corner winter has fallen  under the gin you'll find me forever faking  all types of clashes mixed up romances  spacing around the guilt  of whatever happened  I don't see anyone at all  the rest is feeling fine  It means so much to feel this small  except for the most time  I sway where I want to fall when I got to  I pick myself up to let you know that I  need none of your loving, giving or caring  perhaps I believe they're nothing to do with me  I don't see anyone  I fall down drunk each time I try at all  Back at the corner the rain is falling again  somedays seem to last as long as ten  take me, to the station, and put me in  I don;t want to pass through here again  Maybe a gutter maybe a lover  maybe a life of cheap wine and Bukowski  bars and blisters, cocky sisters  I don't even know what they mean to me