Oh, you silly old man. You silly old man. You're making a fool of yourself. So get off the stage. . You silly old man. In your misguided trousers. With your mascara and your Fender guitar.
How many times have I been around?. Recycled papers paving the ground. Well, she lives for the written word. And people come second, or possibly third.
Yes, I am blind. No, I can't see. The good things. Just the bad things, oh.... . Yes, I am blind. No, I can't see. There must be something. Horribly wrong with me?.
You smile. And there's blood on your lips. Your hands show again. What your mouth has kissed. Now I know something. I did not know before. The thing that you've destroyed.