Sleepless Sundays

I feel tired of passing out before dark
 and losing a vital spark of my childhood charm
 It was fun but now I've turned into a bore
 No more hospital wards
 and I owe you one.
 I could've let you slip through my fingers
 Sleepless Sundays put through the wringer
 It's something I wanna do
 but they doubt that I'll see it through
 I'm half convinced that's how things are gonna be.
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 At times we're all invaded by doubt
 A desire to blow out, a flickering flame
 No shame, a drunken reverie
 No pain, till you're a memory
 Though I've never been the king of moderation
 I did upset you when I was on a winner
 And will I still shine in your eyes as my hair gets thinner
 It's something I wanna do
 but they doubt that I'll see it through
 I'm half convinced that's how things are gonna be.