I've chickened out but who can say I'm wrong
I've chosen not to drive up to Bolton
To play my part in open mic and song
And instead I've bought fags and got cans in
Well it's a warm evening, I'm on my own
And I don't have anything to prove, not
To the same people, not over again
Especially those who can act like a twat
It's my decision - practising has got
Me so far but I've still got quite a long
Way to go before it turns into fun
And admiration, not ordeal or sweat
Or ultimately, regret. I will bring
My guitar and me out when I can stun
Thur 4 Aug
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