The objects in the mirror, they are bigger than they appear
I look at all my friends
I didn't lose the race
To stick a debit card
Somewhere on my face
Wish I could call this fun
But we're in Leamington Spa
Playing drinking games
In an empty bar
But I guess I'm encouraged in Satchwell's, I guess
The mirror holds a dozen boys and zero-sum mess
The matey adjacent wipes piss from his skin
Frank Silva's tongue splits open my grin
"How's Annie, how's Annie?" How's Annie indeed
Annie's on crutches in tears in the street
And I caught my arms doing the job of my hands
Better to dance
The objects in the mirror aren't as big as they appear