You couldn’t wait
to mess around
with our heads,
setting off your guitar
like it was a cannon,
the bootlegged sound
of relentless slaughter
on a distant Soho
night. Night night.
to mess around
with our heads,
setting off your guitar
like it was a cannon,
the bootlegged sound
of relentless slaughter
on a distant Soho
night. Night night.
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