Print

Im eternally grateful To my past influences But they will not free me I am not diseased All the people ask me How I wrote "elastic man"* Life should be full of strangeness Like a rich painting But it gets worse day by day Im a potential dj A creeping wreck A mental wretch Everybody asks me How I wrote "elastic man" His soul hurts though its well filled up The praise received is mentally sent back Or taken apart The observer magazine just about sums him up E.g. self-satisfied, smug Letras de canciones Im living a fake People say, "you are entitled to and great." But I havent wrote for 90 days Ill get a good deal and Ill go away Away from the empty brains that ask How I wrote "elastic man" His last work was "space mystery" in the daily mail, An article in leather thighs The only thing real is waking and rubbing your eyes So Im resigned to bed I keep bottles and comics stuffed by its head Fuck it, let the beard grow Im too tired, Ill do it tomorrow The fridge is sparse But in the town Theyll stop me in the shops Verily theyll track me down Touch my shoulder and ignore my dumb mission And sick red faced smile And they will ask me And they will ask me How I wrote "elastic man" From Letras Mania