You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best

I've been gone for a month, I've been drunk since I

left

These so-called vacations will soon be my death

I'm so sick from the drink, I need home for a

rest...

We arrived in December and London was cold

So we stayed in the bars along Charing Cross Road

We never saw nothin' but brass taps and oak

Kept a shine on the bar with the sleeves of our coats

chorus

Euston Station the train journey north

In the buffet car we lurched back and forth

Past odd crooked dikes, through Yorkshire's green

fields

We were flung into dance as the train jigged and reeled

You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best

I've been gone for a week, I've been drunk since I

left

These so-called vacations will soon be my death

I'm so sick from the drink, I need home for a

rest...

Take me home...

By the light of the moon she'd drift through the

streets

A rare old perfume so seductive and sweet

She'd tease us and flirt as the pubs all closed down

Then walk us on home and deny us a round

The gas heater's empty, it's damp as a tomb

And the spirits we drank are now ghosts in the room

I'm knackered again, come on sleep take me soon

And don't lift up my head 'til the twelve bells of noon

You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best

I've been gone for a month, I've been drunk since I

left

These so-called vacations will soon be my death

I'm so sick from the drink, I need home for a

rest...

Take me home...