and so tonight you're sorry that your victorian attitude
brought you nothing but indifference-
well fuck you, asshole
if you cared a little more, maybe someone'd care for you.
yeah?
well, I don't know how..
besides.. nobody would trust it anyways-
fuck you
no.. fuck you..
...
it's not hot
no, it's not hot at all
but it's not raining
and that's the difference.
tonight I'll sit here
and feel sorry for myself
and be drunk
hoping that someone will feel sorry for me
and be nice to me
though I'm being such an asshole..
yeah,
but what difference would that make
when your friends are just characters on a CRT
they're not here
I can't touch them
I can't look in their eyes
and lose my hate in their caring..
and when the net goes to sleep tonight
I'll fall asleep tonight
alone..
...
(hows it feel to have me lay all this shit on your doorstep?)
...
alone
trombone
telephone
sack of stones
a hone
groan
alone
...
tell me stuff about you, like your favourite colour and ice cream and how
long is your hair and what do you wear and are you here or there and do
you like bears and do you eat pears and does your house have stairs and
how many chairs do you have and maybe, if you think it's fair, I can ask
if you play guitar and what colour is your car and what's your favourite
bar and what's your favourite star (mine's Cygnus X11) and are you close
or far and do you like Narwhales and have you met the Prince of Wales and
have you seen the King of Spain and have you made love on a train and
have you planted any grain or grapes or cantelope or lemon trees or
raised honey bees in dungarees and built them castles in the trees while
singing songs in Siamese about that sharp Wisconsin cheese that tastes so
good on sliced white bread that you can eat while in your bed watching
Bogart on TV?
(yeah, I'm really drunk now..)
...
burp
...
