Vodka intimate, an affair with isolation in a Blackheath cell
Extinguishing the fires in my private hell
Provoking the heartache to renew the license
Of a bleeding heart poet in a fragile capsule
Propping up the crust of the glitter conscience
Wrapped in the christening shawl of a hangover
Baptized in tears from the real
Drowning in the liquid seize on the Piccadilly line, rat-race
Scuttling through the damp electric labyrinth
Caress Ophelia's hand with breaststroke ambition
The albatross courtship marrytime tradition
Sheathed with the walkman wear the halo of distortion
Aural contraceptive aborting pregnant conversation
But she turned the harpoon and it pierced my heart
She hung herself around my neck
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