If we`re having so much fun, how come I`m crying every Monday? Is it just to cancel out the laughter from Thursday `til Sunday? I spend the next two days in bed and wonder what it`s all about, and when I start to feel okay I know it`s time to go back out. I`ve had the same look on my face for the last two lonely years. Twenty-four months of bargain pills, cheeky lines and stolen beers. In all the pictures that I`ve got, my eyes are so black and wide, and if you look long enough you`ll see there`s not much life inside. A new host for my heart is what I thought I`d never find but fate, as always, intervened. And now I`ve got a girl in mind, and I`m meeting her next week when we get back home to Glasgow. That`s if we even make it and don`t get buried in the Dutch snow. And if my instincts are right, I will fall in love and then we can have a laugh from time to time, but you won`t see me there again. When I get home in the morning, Trisha`s hosting a debate - If you don`t like the fish you`re catching then you`ve got to change the bait.