Texty: Johnny Flynn. Leftovers.

I've been drooling at some mangy scraps of bread
And these hungry voices make a lot of noise inside my head
Show me the way to the rubbish dump or the bins at closing time
I've walked a mile just to catch a smile from a fish without its brine

Been hanging round the underground
Found a couple of crumbs down there
Was lucky and got some flotsam
From a girl with long brown hair
She said her name was Mary May and
She liked the springtime most
She said she left her meals
Half ate she said and she left the crusts of toast

Leftovers is what I want
Don't need no fine cuisine
Give me a dime for bacon rind
Or slip me some of that old sardine

She'd been seeing a man named Jim
I said I didn't mind
Said that second place is just my style
Like glasses for the blind
I thought she was kin to kind
I knew I'd met my match
And I was sure that I had locked the door
And she had dropped the latch

Leftovers is what I want
Don't need no fine cuisine
Give me a dime for bacon rind
Or slip me some of that old sardine

I said "bring your dark eyes honey"
She said "you bring yours"
Said I don't take second glances
As she walked out the door
I walked after her and waved her down
And asked her why she left
She said she only dealt leftovers
And that all else felt like theft

Leftovers is what I want
Don't need no fine cuisine
Give me a dime for bacon rind
Or slip me some of that old sardine

Leftovers is what I want
Don't need no fine cuisine
Give me a dime for bacon rind
Or slip me some of that old sardine

If you see her, say hello
She'll be out handing scraps
But don't be fooled, her heart is ruled
By forces off the maps
Show me the way to the rubbish dump or the bins at closing time
I've walked a mile just to catch a smile from a fish without its brine

Leftovers is what I want
Don't need no fine cuisine
Give me a dime for bacon rind
Or slip me some of that old sardine