I own this slow version of Newtown, the one with a slight limp. Everyone is missing so I'm picking up the $1 glasses and holding them to the light in shop after shop to see if any of them will please me. Spencer and the band have gone to play at some damned festival somewhere across the world. I had the idea of writing little notes to be left in people's green rooms,
Dear Placebo,
I hate you.
Dear Tricky,
What are you doing?
Dear Frente,
No really, what are you doing?
Dear Chicks on Speed,
I love you.
Spencer said he'd hide them there for me but in the end I was too drunk when he dropped me at my door and drove away.
