[Intro – quick guitar count-in, drums crash straight in] [Verse 1 – female vocals, fast, playful British delivery] Said I'd leave at half past ten, Half past ten became eleven again. Last train gone, phone on three, Someone put another drink in front of me. That's not mine. Well— It is now. Got work tomorrow, that's future-me's row. One bad choice, then another for luck, At some point you stop giving quite so much of a fuck. [Pre-Chorus – rhythm tightens] Just one more, then I'm done. One more stupid bit of fun. One more round, one more turn— How much trouble could one more— [Shouted] HURT? [Chorus – big melodic punk vocals] One more won't hurt! That's what I said before it got worse. One more won't hurt! Famous last words on the front of my shirt. I had a plan at the start of the night— [Shouted backing vocal] THAT WENT WELL! [Female lead] One more won't hurt. It probably might. [Instrumental – fast guitar riff, punchy drums] [Verse 2 – quicker, increasingly chaotic] Woke up somewhere I vaguely know, One shoe missing, where'd the other one go? Bank says no. Head says worse. Got somebody's jacket and somebody's purse. Relax. Didn't steal it. She gave it to me. I think. There's a traffic cone watching telly in the kitchen, Mate on the sofa in a terrible position. Someone ordered pizza to the house next door, Then climbed their fence when they wouldn't open the door. [Female vocal – dry] Apparently that was me. Right. [Fast Shout-Punk] ONE MORE DRINK! ONE MORE BET! ONE MORE THING I'LL FUCKING REGRET! ONE MORE TEXT I SHOULD DELETE! [Harsh shout] WHY IS THERE A TROLLEY IN THE FUCKING STREET?! [Chorus – louder] One more won't hurt! That's what I said before it got worse. One more won't hurt! Famous last words on the front of my shirt. I had a plan at the start of the night— [Shouted] FUCK KNOWS WHERE THAT WENT! [Female lead] One more won't hurt. Probably. [Instrumental Break – driving bass and guitar, drums pushing harder] [Bridge – instruments pull back] [Female vocal – tired, conversational] Okay. Water. Shower. Toast. Never drinking again. [Pause] Absolutely fucking serious this time. [Phone notification] [Female vocal] What's that? [Pause] Bottomless brunch? [Longer pause] What time? [Band slams back in] [Final Verse – rapid shout-sung delivery] FUCK IT! SHOES ON! HEADACHE GONE— Well, not gone, but we're moving on! Bad decisions, second wind, Someone tell tomorrow-me I'm sorry again! [Growled female vocal] SHE'LL FUCKING LIVE. [Fast vocals] One more morning, one more night, One more chance to get it completely not right! No grand lesson! Nothing learned! [Shouted] IF IT WAS THAT BAD WHY'D WE FUCKING RETURN?! [Final Chorus – huge melodic punk chorus] One more won't hurt! That's what I said and I'll say it again. One more won't hurt! We've already fucked it, so where's the harm then? Had a good plan at the start of my life— [Harsh shouted vocal] THAT WENT WELL! [Female lead] One more won't hurt. [Brief stop] [Female vocal – cheeky] ...Two might. [Final guitar hit]
