Crying For Help

He's probably going home after one more drink,
Or that's what he'll make himself think.
Floating to the bar for a final glass of red,
Lying to himself in his head.

He's probably coming over after one more drink,
Or that's what she makes herself think.
Tumbling over tables and feeling sick,
Listening alone to the clock tick.

Can you tell them what the words are,
That fit between the gaps in the verse,
When you think you're getting better,
But you're only getting worse?

He's probably passing out after one last drink,
Closing his eyes makes the barroom spin,
Tumbling over tables and feeling sick,
Is all it takes to make his head tick.

Can you tell him what the words are,
That fit between the gaps in the verse,
When you think you're getting better,
But you're only getting worse?

She's probably going to break down after one last drink,
Starring in a late-night cartoon,
Of champagne and co-dydramol cocktails
And she's crying for him,
and she's crying for help.