I walk slowly to the store You don't live here anymore You used to live round the corner (Cigarettes and alcohol) Last week I turned twenty four You don't call me anymore We used to speak every morning I was sleeping on the floor I still get the mail for You I leave it at the door Every letter seems a warning Pay your rego by the fourth Monday morning laundry or Coffee on the garden wall You're good cos you're never boring You should probably call me more