There were eighty-seven Advil in the bottle, now there's thirty left.
I ate forty-seven so what happened to other ten?
Why do you suspiciously change the subject and break my concentration
as I dump the bottle out and I count the Advil up again.
Don't interrupt me as I struggle to complete this thought.
Have some respect for someone more forgetful than yourself.
And I'm not done,
and I won't be till my head falls off.
Feeling every pocket on my shirt that's an over coat.
I'm feeling them again but I don't know where I put my notes.
Clearing my throat and gripping the lecturn,
I smile and face my audience clearing it's throat and smiling
with it's hand on the bathroom sink.
And when I lean my head against the frosted shower stall,
I see stuff through the glass that I don't recognise at all.
And I'm not done,
And I won't be till my head falls off,
Though it may not be a long way off.
I'm not done talking yet.
I'm not done talking.
and when I lean my head against the frosted shower stall,
I see a broken figure silhouetted on the wall.
And I'm not done, and I won't be till my head falls off.
Though it may not be a long way off,
I won't be done until my head falls off.

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