Martha - The ballad of Lucy Connor (Part 1)

Lucy was a shit hot sci-fi writer,
With a penchant for a story awfully gory,
and she'd certainly killed off a lead or two,

But when the money got tight,
She started working nights,
At a bar on Denmark Street,
And the bouncers were pricks,
And the punters were thick,
And when the yuppies tried
To chat her up she'd always tell them,

Don't waste your time,
Your time on me,
Cause it's clear
That I'm not your ideal company,
Don't waste your time,
Your time on me,
Because it's clear
That you've got somewhere else
That you would rather be…

Waiting at a pelican crossing,
She caught a glimpse of her reflection
In the window of passing car,
It scared her stiff, how ill she looked,
She hadn't written ‘owt in days,
'Cause she was stuck at the bar,

And then that evening at work,
She had to deal with this burke,
Who kept on asking her about her sleeve tattoos,
This inarticulate fool,
She grabbed his collar,
Pulled him close and she said,

Don't waste your time, your time on me,
Cause it's clear that I'm not your ideal company,
Don't waste your time, your time on me,
Because it's clear
That you've got somewhere else
That you would rather be…