In the bosom of gracious Britannia a pain rises...
Concerned children molesting dead mosquitoes... train stations and bus Stops, graced with only one desolate bus, a bus that never arrives.
The sound of solemn men linked to desperate whores, the cry of an Unsatisfied lover, reeling from argument...
The joy of a thousand birthdays frozen and shattered by the cold bite of Technology.
And the sound of a pathetic poet lingering in a sad state of self admiration, Asking himself, 'do I remember when... ?'
Painted Finger Paint @ LONDON ASTORIA/MEAN FIDDLER!:
Build Me a Bridge to Poland @ LONDON ASTORIA/MEAN FIDDLER!: