So I’m back to the velvet underground.
Oh mirror in the sky, what is love?
The sea that divides us is a temporary one.
I won tickets to see Stevie Nicks today.
This fine art of deception
has, inevitably, failed.
I cannot hide from myself,
I cannot perpetuate these lies.
My insides are slowly slipping out,
what lurks beneath my skin
is preparing for the big reveal.
My hair is falling out in clumps,
and my nails are coming loose -
soon, the skin itself will shed.
What you see won’t be pretty.
You’ll shriek, and squirm in your seats.
The cuts of the skin give way to
bigger, ever-expanding gaps and holes inside.
My eyes will leave, in their place, what
sees nothing.
My heart is nonexistent, shriveled away by
years of hidden pain and self-inflicted torture.
My lungs are splintered, and I cannot breathe.
I give up, this lady snake is fading
away before your very eyes.
I’ve already tossed away my body -
It’s time now to hand in my soul.
SUPPORT: David Thewlis
I do not believe in perfection, and I believe that working towards perfection is a waste of time. You’ll never achieve it - it’s impossible.
Does anyone have an mp3 of Boz Scaggs’ 1965 album ‘Boz’? This is beyond impossible to find - and my friend Julie would be forever grateful.
