Blood Moon

You saw me standing alone

Without a clue where to start

Without a song of my own.

Blood Moon

What’d you howl to your mates for?

It’s not the thing I signed up for

When I became your chauffeur.

I drove you to the Gardener’s Arms

With your oh so resistible charms.

Six pints of Brewdog later

They didn’t have to persuade yer,

I was ready to drive you back

But you wanted to hang with the pack.

Blood Moon

I’m no longer alone

They stood around me and barked

And I just want to go home.

Blood Moon

Now I’m chewed to the bone

Your hairy friend is eating my heart

And I just want to go home.

—

With sincere apologies to Rodgers and Hart, and Manchester City.