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• Artiste: Sound Of Guns
• Titre: Bottled In Birkenhead
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Its ten past four in the morning my minds like a dynamo just wont give in maybe the lights are to bright maybe its the amphetamine that i took last night i havn't moved for an hour this attic is cold an smells strongly of turpentine but i dont mind cause am hoping the fumes might eventually send me to sleep my eyes are blood shot from three days of nights, of just staring through walls and refilling my cup to the top with cheap whiskey which says on the label distilled in kentucky but bottled in birkenhead this kind of thing makes me smile to myself everyday when the worlds turn you around myself its all in good time, but all in my hell its all in good time, all in my hell just sit here drifting, thru the realms of the sick, be unwell, am on tender hooks, and am looking quite pale but still got my fashion good looks