Crash And Burn

Don't go out. It'd be better to stay at home. Pretend to be asleep. Summer Hibernation. The Heat does you no good. Sun is not good for the soul. Sitting on you're own muttering under your breath to a bubblegum synthesizers. Take me back to prison, put me back into my cell. I don't like the freedom, i can't take it. Self-loathing is such an unattractive quality yet it remains a unavoidable one. Melt into a ductile metal like liquid ice cream floating around the bowl when you leave it out. The sun crawls back into its lunar hovel and strange prickly heat pinches at your skin. You pull on some crisp new clothes which soon dampen and heavy from your sweat. It's close. You find yourself sitting under Christmas tree lights crunching your third lolly-pop while drugged pensioners stumble around demanding house music, there wrinkled necks raised towards the sky, "We Own The Night". They jeer and squawk at you as you try to explain that there's no vodka in your lemonade. The situation holds no lucidity as you curl up and die. You crash through the night back into the day a charred frame of your former self. No phoenix rises from this fire. Your eyes melt back into your forehead. At least now your feeling something as you pick at your wounds. Look in the mirror and you see someone else. He hates his life. He is you, and you are dead.

Pandora's Box - It's All Coming Back To Me Now
Bow Wow Wow - I Want Candy
ABBA - Dancing Queen
Edwyn Collins - A Girl Like You
Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band - Born To Run