Postcard

I think it's time that I got off the kitchen floor
 But is there really any point at all?
 Waking up this morning felt the same
 I better sleep while life is so mundane
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 It could have been yesterday that I locked the door
 I blocked the windows up, so I can't be sure
 
 Now I haven't even got the will to eat
 I'm lame and self-obsessed, that I will concede
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 I'd like to light a cigarette, but I cannot
 The lighter's dead and the gas has been cut off
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 I'm the one you always seem to read about
 The fire inside my eyes has long gone out
 
 There's nothing left for me to say or do
 'Cause all that matters disappeared when I lost you