Close in, move out to where you want to go. There's a crowd out there, hand clapping slow. We're all powered up, switched on, the rig is tight. Step into joy, walk into light.
See black, see yellow with little notebooks drawn. See grey stripes bowling down the street. Silver streaks and T-shirts so precisely torn. Strange foreign chaps in white bed-sheets ---.
Too many drivers in too many cars.. Too many lost souls drinking in too many bars.. Too many heroes stepping on too many toes.. Too many yes-men nodding when they really mean no..
Hoorah!. warchild, dance the days and nights away. sweet child, how do you do today?. warchild, dance the days and nights away. sweet child, how do you do today?.
Brain-storming habit-forming battle-warning weary. Winsome actor spewing spineless chilling lines ---. The critics falling over to tell themselves he's boring.
As I drove down the road to look for Eden. Saw two young girls but left them standing there. They were too late to get home on the underground. And probably too drunk, too drunk to care.