The more I want to be me. The less I know myself. The living left to die. While ghosts are brought to life. . Welcome to the new slave trade. Drained of delusion and buried in debt.
Libraries gave us power. Then work came and made us free. What price now for a shallow piece of dignity. . I wish I had a bottle. Right here in my dirty face to wear the scars.
In 1985. I placed a bet and lied. Losing all that I had. At least with all my heart intact. . In 1985. Orwell was proved right. Torville and Dean's Bolero.