I awoke all hung withdrawn and sordid.    If eyes are windows on the soul    then mine were locked and boarded.    My body; numb, in pain from the neck up    which seemed more suited    to a prisoner or a shallow dive    that's poorly executed.    Where had all my money gone?    A damp receipt alluded    to a tab and taxi flag-fare    that my bank-card had saluted.    And I couldn't tell you how   I made it home before the sun.    Or pick the barman from a police line-up of one.       I'm in the dark with a shot in the arm.    Falling glass and a rising alarm.    I'm in the dark with a shot in the arm.       I've tried to trace my tracks    from their beginning to conclusion.    But there's not a lot that    hasn't just been lost in the confusion.    To that guilt-induced amnesia    all my memories succumb    bar your beauty, your kindness and the stupid things I've done      In the dark with a shot in the arm.    Falling glass and a rising alarm.    I'm in the dark with a shot in the arm.       Shook off that cold somehow.    I can wear short sleeves now.    It's ice behind my brow.    The inner-north sea is staying calm.       It's my past that'll do you harm.