I'm losing myself.
Here I am, 5 in the morning, near the great old London church
Where they proclaimed my fidelity to God.

I'm losing myself.
She says '250 for a fuck, love'
And I say no.
And I buy her a drink instead,
And she tells me about the club,
And we laugh,
And she doesn't believe I've never been here before,
And we laugh,
And she kisses me goodbye and says
'You're a smart one, you're a smart one love.'

Here I am,
Losing myself.
Her nipples near my lips,
Her breath upon my neck, as it is on countless necks
On countless nights.
I laugh.

Here I am,
Losing myself.
She says 'live on the wild side for once'
And I laugh.
Honey, you have no idea who you're talking to.

I 'm losing myself,
In the heart of the casino,
Talking Kierkegaard and Schopenhauer
With the trick.
She says
'I never met someone who likes the things I like'.

I see Gaelle's movements mirrored in the stripper's movements,
Who has no name,
For her own good.

I'm losing myself.
Here I am,
Cocaine and tequila and the stench of desperate men,
Out of the brothel
On the street by the church where I once felt God.

I want to go back.
I want everyone to wake for a wholesome breakfast and the Sunday papers.
I want my love, oh my Love,
And I want to be unrecognised.

I 'm losing myself,
Just because.

I am sorry.
My God.