I know, there's no track no. 18 but there was – it wouldn't fit on the album.

Don't be a stranger

Crying in your caviar, tears in your champagne
Can't believe the blues can come around again
Pour another whiskey, roll another joint
Buy another placebo and wonder what's the point
Of it all
Of it all
Of it all

You never had much money, thought you never would
Said it didn't matter much, wouldn't do much good
But now you've got your pockets stuffed, with plastic cards and cash
Feel it gives you licence to treat your friends like trash
Think again
Think again
Think again

You swan around in a stratosphere, with all your hangers-on
And such a fun fun atmosphere, reality is gone
A Patron of the arts no, a patronising fart, go
Find yourself in this helter-skelter a contented man
If you can
If you can
If you can

You tried to find yourself once before, found the note hanging on your door
Gone to make an appointment to analyse your discontent but then

You picked six Lucky Numbers, became a rich man fast
Forgot about your ideals, forgot about your past
The past
The past
The past

Pride comes before a fall they say, now that it's the fall you may
Look again at your discontent, maybe make another appointment
And keep it
Keep it
Keep it

Crying in your caviar, tears in your champagne
Can't believe the blues can come around again
Drink another whiskey, smoke another joint
Buy another placebo and wonder what's the point
Of it all
Of it all
Of it all