I slow down, Purple Avenue To march around in April's shoes Weathervanes remind Of the summertimes that I've left behind Money's gone, for Auld Lang Syne I spent on eastern standard time Whatever happened to my roll September fell right through the hole All I've got is empty pockets now Why does August try so hard To hoist me on my own petard I've learned one thing from how we were That an ounce of prevention's worth a pound of cure The shadows fall but I cannot thread The tenor of the things you said All that's left is flesh and bone Lights are on but no one's home All I've got is empty pockets now I spill myself another drink I count the silver in the sink The orchestra is blind But I've never been the worrying kind Subsequently and furthermore I'll sleep right here on the draining board I'll never be paroled I like to drink them while they're cold All I've got is empty pockets now