Its no good. I've looked in the mirror and I'm not Bob Dylan. I've checked in the fridge and I'm not Neil Young. I've taken off my underpants and thrown them on the floor, this is not a revolution.
I have wanted to be myself. I have wanted to be my own Bob Dylan one step ahead three steps to the side but I keep calling myself Judas. That moment when he turns and steps to the mic and cries "I don't believe you", that moment when he turns to his band with the instruction to play it fucking loud, that moment is every third beat of my heart.
I feel built up like a bulldozed paddock. I feel wound through with tarmac and macadam and the remnants of cobble stones. I want broad shoulders and calloused fingers, I want music to be my first language. I want cherry pie and a dishwasher. I want a long desk under my window. I want my telephone to be red.
I will not pretend to be a single building. I'm walking streets and running my hands through other people's lavender and wishing it was mine. I need land and a mid century typewriter.
I feel like a city.
I have wanted to be myself. I have wanted to be my own Bob Dylan one step ahead three steps to the side but I keep calling myself Judas. That moment when he turns and steps to the mic and cries "I don't believe you", that moment when he turns to his band with the instruction to play it fucking loud, that moment is every third beat of my heart.
I feel built up like a bulldozed paddock. I feel wound through with tarmac and macadam and the remnants of cobble stones. I want broad shoulders and calloused fingers, I want music to be my first language. I want cherry pie and a dishwasher. I want a long desk under my window. I want my telephone to be red.
I will not pretend to be a single building. I'm walking streets and running my hands through other people's lavender and wishing it was mine. I need land and a mid century typewriter.
I feel like a city.
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