I want to fuck you up

Oh no.
Oh fucking no.
You can never know.

Sitting here, the sound of Jerry's tank
And the beer fridge.

I can't sit here thinking it's all ok.
I can't sit here listening to Family Guy upstairs,
Knowing what we had doesn't count.
Knowing all those nights of lying about unique,
All those heart breaking fucking moments
Made me and you ok.

No. This is bullshit.
If only I had money. If only I had £60 a night to make it ok.
I wouldn't have to stay here.

I wouldn't have to sit back while you sleep.
Sit back and hear the snoring while you slumber peacefuly
During the fucking torment in my head.

I defended you in Africa.
I defended us. Those late nights, with St Georges and the
Cigarettes (if only you were awake - I'd be stealing some now...)
With everyone and the voices.

I want to hear it once more.
I want to make it ok.
I want you to wake the fuck up and tell me you can cope.

But I know it will never happen.
What can I say.
I want to fuck you up.
Clearly it's the best I can hope for.