text: I slow down purple avenues
  To march around in April shoes
  Weather vanes remind
  Of the summer times that Ive left behind
  Moneys gone for Auld Lang Syne
  I spent on Eastern Standard Time
  Whatever happened to my roll
  September fell right through the hole
  All Ive got is empty pockets now
  And why does August try so hard
  To hoist me on my own petard?
  Ive learned one thing from loving her
  That an ounce of preventions worth a pound of cure
  And the shadows fall, but I cannot thread
  The tenor of the things youve said
  All thats left is flesh and bone
  The lights are on, no ones home
  All Ive got is empty pockets now
  I spill myself another drink
  I count the whiskers in the sink
  The orchestra is blind
  But Ive never been the worrying kind
  Subsequently and furthermore
  Ill sleep right here on the draining board
  I will never be paroled
  I like to drink them while theyre cold
  And all Ive got is empty pockets now