rude food/ art whisperer

she's thinking about having an early nigh 





*********************

k a derivative right 

ala old skool 

i wrote a song just now 

thats what a vendetta looks laike 

you see the chance 

to get your own back 

n then you has to stop 

cus is not vey poetry 


n suppose we are chatting right 

n what would you 

say back 


cus your reply 

is not a cover version 

is youw own creation isn't it 





****************

n that way you can talk to 

just anyone ... 

pull up some lyrics 

n nobody needs to know about it 


************

n I'm sitting in this workers cafe right 

with Jim Morrison 

like a dog without a bone 

an actor alone 




Im feeling his loneliness n his pain 

n the rain is lashing 

down on the dark window 

i take his hands 

n the lonely wind seems to blow 

between us 


n the dance will only 

drive us further apart 


a heart spinning out of control 

i reach out my arms 

to embrace the warmth of the thin air 
n he's gone 




he feels like a dog without a bone 

n hes Jim Morrison 

n he feels like he has nothing

his girlfriend his career 

his drugs 

all means nothing to him 

n he just wants to ride the storm 






***********

the way to a mans heart is

through his stomach 

nt if he's Jim Morrison 

hes not even interested 

in his needles 

let alone your sunday roast ... 




n she pricked her finger on a spinning wheel 




**********

n i din wanna miss the chance 

see i see the weakness 

in ma foe ... 

n the moment is short 






****************** 2241

they've snagged the picture 

might be a little big of it 



n they playing me the smell 

of a rapist