i'm burning in this pit i dug myself in an hour ago and up around the corner lie s that bastard pub's front door and in my many changing moods and on similar day s i've cursed and spat mercilessly at the foot of her firkin grace chaos comes i nevitably, like a monarch dressed in rags grinning like a maniac and splashing c ider in my face
i'm going back to san francisco to be finally at ease as i've reached the herald ed last rung and become a part-time London Drunk
the Bristol Boys are lunatics but madness has its virtue they all smash their pi nts and feign legless fights because its what they're fucking used to one autumn night in Birmingham after the band had played we piled into that filthy van and got out of that place by half a mile or half a minute i was a sunken, bloated s lag i puked up on the floorboards, my fucking jacket and pant-leg (Koski)
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