Trudy

Trudy comes home with a gun Reeking of gin She's got an itch on her head Wearing her wig again Trudy hangs out the window in a shrub She waits Grinding her teeth, scratching her head When Trudy comes along, she goes alone Collecting bottles on the way Trudy wakes up to buy a new pint Clutching her head The bottle goes down, down Another day awaits When Trudy comes along, she goes alone Collecting bottles on the way Swallowed a bottle Swallowed a gun Swallowed a bottle Swallowed a gun