God crackles over the intercom, listen to me listen to me listen to me
Our feastfires have faded to candles in winter snow, after a funeral.
Thirty years with a mistaken belief; to be a liar and believer we never knew.
In English you can't be heroic and gallant. Better a sane crook than a mad Puritan.
Eating garbage at the top of the world,/ we're going to tear a new asshole into the New York restaurant scene