You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best.   I've been gone for a month, I've been drunk since i left.   These so called vacations will soon be my death   I'm so sick from the drink, I need home for a rest.      We arrived in December and London was cold    So we stayed in the bars along Charing Cross Road    We never saw nothin' but brass taps and oak    Kept a shine on the bar with the sleeves of our coats.      chorus       Euston Station the train journey north    In the buffet car we lurched back and forth    Past odd crooked dikes, through Yorkshire's green fields    We were flung into dance as the train jigged and reeled       You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best    I've been gone for a week, I've been drunk since I left    These so-called vacations will soon be my death    I'm so sick from the drink, I need home for a rest...    Take me home...       By the light of the moon she'd drift through the streets    A rare old perfume so seductive and sweet    She'd tease us and flirt as the pubs all closed down    Then walk us on home and deny us a round       chorus      The gas heater's empty, it's damp as a tomb    And the spirits we drank are now ghosts in the room    I'm knackered again, come on sleep take me soon    And don't lift up my head 'til the twelve bells of noon       You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best    I've been gone for a month, I've been drunk since I left    These so-called vacations will soon be my death    I'm so sick from the drink, I need home for a rest...    Take me home...