What made me feel so old,
so old beyond my years?
I am a vintage wine
in a pub full of cheap beers.
And no-one wants to take a sip.
No-one dares to let their guard slip.
I'm just another wasted drip
beyond the barmaid's tiring grip.
Maybe I should be served
from a different scene
where I'm appreciated
and the thirsty lips are keen.
But I have been waiting so long
to find somewhere that I belong,
maybe my taste is just too strong
cause still no takers come along.
And so I am the dregs
to those so afflicted
they just take whatever
from what they are addicted.