I had a picture of you.   I sliced it up in two   and half my love went in the bin,   with the letters. And the purple tie   you bought me for my birthday.   Tell me! What's his favorite colour?   is it yellow? does he like it when you   smoke in bed or burn the eggs   or spend his money on those silly things   which last for just a week   then take their place among the garbage   or with some stupid charity.   His charity. My charity's all gone,   like those records that you stole   when you rolled up our relationship   and slipped out unannounced.   Christ! you even took the cat.   Now I talk to pictures, go to bed at 10   and pretend that I'm asleep,   but the bags around my eyes betray me.   You betrayed me... I betrayed myself.   I'll live with it, and I'll find someone else.   Don't you worry... don't you hurry to the phone.   I'm happy on my own,   playing patience on the floorboard   (hell... I always lose but I don't care).