Mood still rather gloomy. Feeling generally dispirited by people who make promises that they do not keep or possibly had no intention of ever keeping. Even worse is people who claim to be friends but when the chips are down all they do is rubbish your efforts by damning you faintly with praise. I think you know who you are, I also think that it is extremely unlikely that should you be able to read this you would recognise yourself. But if you do this song from Psychophile is just for you:
Vice Girl
Purity of intention
Define yourself by your abstention
Black on black
Skin on skin
Dance with me
I'll let you in
Fingernails upon your skin
A subtle glance, a taunting dance
Precious as a black pearl
Dirty little vice-girl
Come here, come to me
Come on, come with me
Virgin statue in the corner
Carved in marble, draped in lace
You can't help but adore her
Hair a veil across her face
Trace of perfume lingering
As she walks onto the dance-floor
Deliberately provoking
Your desire to see more
(c)2001 Lucy Pointycat
Some people wouldn't recognise irony or sarcasm if it fell on them. Mine's a pint...of absinthe
Monday, July 18, 2005
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