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From here to there in minus time, a spirit casts a line to fish alternatives and Caesar lives. It's 1939. It's Fall. We eat pizzas by the pool... we watch the Christians sing then fall in quadro. 50 legal channels, this one sponsored by St.
Paul. Are you playing me? (Where next?) Year sub-zero here in Baghdad, s uper-heroes stalk the street. The bitter moon looks down and laughs while I lie smoking in the bath with you. Now spray these lips with superglue, I'm lying through my teeth - it's ocean blue in Casablanca, but it's burned out black beneath. Playing me... (where next?) It's All Souls Night. I'm frightened because I'm standing here alone. I watched the last bus fly to Brighton. Now life's empty but it's home. And I skip lightly through the garbage, call you on your mobile phone. The message says you've re-located. "Leave a message... here's the tone." Playing me? (Where next?)
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