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• Artiste: Drones, The
• Titre: Mean Streak
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a meat wagon in the shadow of a tenement block you got the pigs up in the stairwell asking questions and taking down names i say "that boy had a mean streak i aint trying to be mean hes just easy to hate he had a spike in his veins for a number of years its all cold memory now he tells me that he has gone clean a black white tv set up the back of his head that shatters and shutters but wont never go dead that boy had it down holier than thou though he was dumber than a bag of hammers i didnt know hed pull the trigger with his left big toe well he shaved off his hair leaving only the eyes in his head and a hole for a mouth that looked more like an asshole i swear he never had no family hed sit up on the ledge staring up at a moon that died in the nights arms to keep watch like a ghost on his heart in its throws and its calms well it aint how you fall its how you land id remind him...'life has its lessons'hed say ill come good once i figure to learn them i kicked junk with the bottle now its merely a teething concern he would tell me but i had my doubts a 13th floor bedsit a kitchen a couch the only ways down cause the bottom youll find is much clearer to the eye than the top is the other way round"