gotta go to work
gotta steal to live
i get paid
im not a kind of slave
you've got to know....you are free
anything is yours, anything at all.
waves crash, dust settles. rusty pipes, car watchers, someone in front seat. repeating these numbers is doing me in. a hunger strike is to take place. iii.
[part 30] move town, look at old one in a better light (?)
meat junkies with RSI, pasty and pale, bruised and tired. its a temporary measure, make no mistake. a childish institution we never seem to escape.
i will leave the country.
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