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Never let Ware sit on your bed
He'll stay for hours and blow your head
With his wonderful rambling drunken prose
As the smoke from his fag curls around his nose
Drifting past those hurting eyes
Those deep clear hurting eyes
As he explains the origin of words
Theories of life, evolution of birds
How he enjoyed his days at school
Why the army is a place for fools
Then he'll amble off muttering and laughing
 and shaking his head
Because you didn't
 let him sit on your bed
But this gentle man with the damaged soul
Would have dropped asleep and lost control
And if he'd sat you'd regret it
For sure as hell he'd have wet it

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