a glass full of port
a briefcase full of money
the news full of lies
fear creeps up my spine
the sense of being followed
from each dark corner
fear creeps up my spine
the sense of being followed
from each dark corner
start threading the noose
i’m leaving today, you know
new york fucking sucks
banished as a child
a world inside a painting
slowly rots away
i wake up gently
it’s such a beautiful day
i feel very ill
the plane dips and rocks
the vast desert beneath us
how did i get here?
there is a thin line
between a joke and the truth
i can’t take either
a huge chimera
part wolf, part wasp, part human
i’ve named him Eric
it’s time to take stock
and get myself together
and get milk.. and bread..
completely naked
but for top hat and goggles
i dress to impress
i can keep cleaning
but the mould will always win
it will outlive me
map the universe
calculate every outcome
never live a day