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Boxing nightI celebrate in style, in boxer shorts and spirits Floor littered with ghosts of bottles pastThere’s a naked hush, clothed only in breath and a pulseOf a heart that is kicking as though it is desperate to be born I am hostage blind, deaf to the din outsideGood Glasgow could burn to its timber tonight, I’d barely blink an eyeWell the clock just stopped, you can cut that into my headstoneWon’t something move so I stop staring a hole into the phone?You can get me at home With a drink to ill healthJust me and these wallsAnd a beaten up chairOn boxing dayThis is boxing night, and someone lost an eyeI swear I’ve lost the last drop of whatever kept me awake, aliveWell I fell in the Forth from a heavy right hookTo a blushed and swollen faceIn a single blow it’s murdered and then it takes years to waste awayI can’t call you all mine anymoreI can’t call you, full stopBut you know you can call me up anytimeLetras de cancionesCall me whatever the fuck you wantYou can get me at home With a drink to ill healthJust me and these wallsAnd a beaten up chairYou can get me at home With a drink to ill healthJust me and these wallsAnd a beaten up chairOn boxing day From Letras Mania