My liver does not do its best
I’m sitting in a dirty vest
A week of stubble on my chin
Waiting to let the bailiffs in.

No loser I before this time
When life became a pantomime,
Before, I’d win most any row,
It doesn’t seem to matter now.

What went wrong is hard to say
But there were hints along the way;
I’d drink and eat a hearty meal
After clinching every deal.

As deal making became a drug
And remonstrations brought a shrug,
I never seemed to see my home
And sometimes I forgot to phone.

When the tide turned and I was caught
Buying long and selling short,
The scent of blood replaced the gin
As friends moved on and wolves moved in.

The collapse came when I was squeezed
No help at hand and assets seized;
Now all seems hollow here inside,
Just bitter thoughts and false pride.

The truth of course is hard to say
But there were many debts to pay
But still for me the hardest day
Was when Katherine went away.

May 1993