Wednesday, 17 November 2004

A Dying Trade

I watch the window watch me as they look into mine -
Their dilemma is not something I can empathize with as they're able to decide

I turn towards the door and want to run outside
But there are questions to be answered and yet more time to be wasted of my life

Someone makes a scene but it doesn't move me
When I'm dying, of what interest are Goudas to me?

But then I look at her and I can almost remember something more
Than recommending Riesling to complement that choice of yours

So I run outside, maybe it's not impossible for me to decide
At the very least I don't have to be bored senseless whilst I'm still alive

I wish she'd follow me, I want to see if my blood can remember where to go -
Why should I die fast when I can die slow?

There's more to life than what collapses under my knife
I just have to find it now because I could go at any time.

Someone Please Tell Her That Listening To Morrissey Is No Longer Official Teenage Policy

Darling, I asked you why you're still listening to The Smiths
When it's no longer nineteen-eighty-six
Sat in your bedsit in Osterley, listening to Morrissey
When you could be out with your friends enjoying the holiday -
It's so very sad
That listening to Hatful of Hollow will likely be the most fun you ever have
And yes darling, maybe it was better in the eighties
But it was still bad.