I sense movement and wake, opening my eyes and looking around. My heart stops for a moment before I remember where I am and what happened. What time is it? I look at my arm and find the paint completely dry. Sh*t...
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
"Same," I flash a smile, thinking of how to get it all off, "Maybe we should visit a car wash... without a car. That might get the paint off... maybe. It'd be fun either way."
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I don't care what the miserable excuse is
for showing the death of books, live, on screen.
Men, I could understand; but books! - — Edwin Morgan, From the Video Box 2