the picture and the photo is faded and old

I keep it in my pocket where it’s scrunched up and kept fold

I hold the keys in my hand, they cling and they clang

the door upstairs is closed by the wind, I hear a loud bang

the shoes on the rack are covered with dust

as the iron clamp outside is full of rust

my watch tells me that I’m already late

the time is quarter past eight

my wallet in my bag and I’m ready to go

I’ll enjoy my night out and I’ll be taking it slow