You'll

have

to

ex-

cuse

me,

I'm

not

at

my

best

I've

been

gone

for

a

month,

I've

been

drunk

since

I

left

These

so

called

va-

ca-

tions

will

soon

be

my

death

I'm

so

sick

from

the

drink

I

need

home

for

a

rest

We

ar-

rived

in

De-

cem-

ber

and

Lon-

don

was

cold

We

stayed

in

the

bars

a-

long

Cha-

ring

Cross

Ro-

ad

We

ne-

ver

saw

no-

thing

but

brass

taps

and

oak

Kept

a

shine

on

the

bar

with

the

sleeves

of

our

coats

You'll

have

to

ex-

cuse

me,

I'm

not

at

my

best

I've

been

gone

for

a

week

I've

been

drunk

since

I

left

And

these

so

called

va-

ca-

tions

Will

soon

be

my

death

I'm

so

sick

from

the

drink

I

need

home

for

a

rest

Take

me

home

Eus-

ton

Sta-

tion

the

train

jour-

ney

North

In

the

buf-

fet

car

we

lurched

back

and

forth

Past

old

croo-

ked

dykes

through

York-

shire's

green

fields

We

were

flung

in-

to

dance

as

the

train

jigged

and

reeled

You'll

have

to

ex-

cuse

me,

I'm

not

at

my

best

I've

been

gone

for

a

week

I've

been

drunk

since

I

left

And

these

so-

called

va-

ca-

tions

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

per-

fume,

so

se-

duc-

tive

and

sweet

She'd

tease

us

and

flirt,

as

the

pubs

all

closed

down

Then

walk

us

on

home

and

de-

ny

us

a

round

You'll

have

to

ex-

cuse

me,

I'm

not

at

my

best

I've

been

gone

for

a

month

I've

been

drunk

since

I

left

And

these

so

called

va-

ca-

tions

Will

soon

be

my

death

I'm

so

sick

from

the

drink

I

need

home

for

a

rest

Take

me

home

The

gas

hea-

ter's

emp-

ty,

it's

damp

as

a

tomb

The

spi-

rits

we

drank

now

ghosts

in

the

room

I'm

knack-

ered

a-

gain,

come

on

sleep

take

me

soon

And

don't

lift

up

my

head

'till

the

twelve

bells

at

noon

You'll

have

to

ex-

cuse

me,

I'm

not

at

my

best

I've

been

gone

for

a

month

I've

been

drunk

since

I

left

And

these

so-

called

va-

ca-

tions

Will

soon

be

my

death

I'm

so

sick

from

the

drink

I

need

home

for

a

rest

Take

me

home