I've been bangin' out the crazies from the ballooning nazi ideas I've been having. All stuck in my head. All dressed in a black sartorial eeriness. Have I been a goon for fighting off the inherent soul-flier who's patiently waiting? And waiting for what? For paltry moments of intimacy? To feed on plastic sugar words? What the fuck am I doing? I'm getting shitloads of morbid days and I'm not feeling any better with these meagre touches of consolation. I need winning ones.

God tell me what I'm doing...