text: As I slow down on purple avenues
  To march around in Aprils shoes
  The weathervanes remind
  Of summertimes that Ive left behind
  All the moneys gone for Auld Lang Syne
  I spent on Eastern Standard Time
  What happened to my roll)
  September fell right through the hole
  All Ive got is empty pockets now
  Oh why does August try so hard
  To hoist me on my own petard
  Ive learned one thing from losing her
  An ounce of preventions worth a pound of cure
  The shadows fall, I cannot thread
  The tenor of the things youve said
  All thats left is flesh and bone
  The lights are on but 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
  All Ive got is empty pockets now