As the life goes on as usual, a three feet wall restrains. 7 inches cut, not the first and certainly not the last. A killer full of adrenaline. Tormenting its victim for hours till it has drawn its last breath.
Come on, let's play a little game shall we. Of course you want,. You have no choice. I play death and you can play alive. I make your sins I think your thoughts,.
"it's 7x" and that's all that they'll say about coke. And you're just as circumspect and I didn't mean that as a joke. . Because I know everybody's got a secret deep inside.
You've just walked in this room. But things have changed forever now. Because you're the only thing in view. . And when my girlfriend asks you. "Please, could you tell me how.
Of course it's you...it's 2AM. You feel like dancin' to my R.E.M.. Mix your signals do you feel like sharin'. or do you just wanna know what I'm wearin'?.
Music from Africa from a dark hallway. Who can tell me if something is off tonight. Smell of exotica in a dark elevator. Who can tell me if something is off tonight.
"Back home, they'll be thinking about us. When we are far away.... Back home, they'll be really behind us. In every game we play...".
All gathered 'round the 18th tee. With pringle and tartan and shooting sticks. Binoculars, poised, ready to use. Watching, waiting, there it goes!. Great shot!.
All through the game he shouts at his mates. Talking, talking, talking, never shuts his face. Into the pub for a sporting discussion. He always tries to dominate the conversation.
When I play cricket. I'm the longest at the wicket. I can jump and swim. And I live in the gym. But I can't come to terms. With my existence as part of the universe.
Posed like swallows before a dive. Five lanes, and on the left hand side. Stands Tubby Barlow wet with fear. Not quite sure what he's doing there. On your marks, get set, and they're in.
Too many crap programs. With too many adverts. Too much Matthew Engel bullshit. And not enough dirt. Media and programs. All dull and mundane. How to fill up space.
Another Sunday match again. Another Merseyside clash again. It's the 36th this season. By my calculations. That's when I made the decision. To stay in the lower divisions.
Step by step. Climbing to the top. Eddie the Eagle. The epitome of sport. Not for the winning. Or the advertising deals. Not for the money or glory. Just for taking part.
I always wanted to play. In the school football team. But the coach said I wasn't fast enough. I wasn't no good it seemed. I used to watch them practice.
The new games tutor was like any other teacher. Same blatant ideology they're trying to install in you. At every opportunity they'd press us to compete.
There'll be new events in Seoul '88. Throwing the molotov and the hundred meter loot. Hurdling over barricades putting the brick. Vaulting over riot cops in the peoples Olympics.
Dipping into his Filofax. He wonders who he can buy next. "C'mon, Play the game the Maxwell way. And you'll never lose, come what may". There'll be the Maxwell League.
Hurling, the national sport of Ireland. Was banned in 1366. As part of an Anglo-Norman attempt. To crush all Gaelic resistance. It failed. Over six hundred years of British repression.
The millionaires are closing ranks. Tax-dodging in the race to the bank. Listen for the slamming of the stable doors. After the horse has bolted. Trapped fingers, and someone's to blame.