FRIDAY NIGHT IN LEICESTER SQUARE

Just another Friday night in Leicester Square 
Where into a pint glass he continues to stare
He's had two pints already to numb the pain
This pub is crowded as it just starts to rain 

The third pint he drinks doesn't reach the spot
Noise all around him he doesn't care a jot 
Drowning his glass waiting patiently for a refill
Alcohol is his salvation a bitter sweet pill 

It's one clock in the morning now time to go 
His body is staggering and his brain is slow 
A miracle occurred he's found his own flat 
If I'm honest I don't know how he did that 

What happens then when he turns the key 
That of course will remain a mystery to me 
I can only guess that he crashes onto his bed
Waking up next morning with his eyes so red