Readymade Bloomsbury Boxcutter
Barton's in the hall
New York was in the clouds
Sepia attack
Write the play, insomniac
Johnny, let it go
There's nothing here to see
Stand black clad among depraved
Smoke a fag and stay awake
Barton cries in bed
On truth, he depends
Johnny hits his head
Don't wait for the world's end
Travis, calm your heart
Because no one ever loves
Disregard what's on the streets
Load the guns, avoid sleep
Culture isn't sick
Just so boring
Stay awake to think
Erase the useless things
Dying by the fire
A century at wit's end
Fall upon a blade
The Lamplighters are dead again
Culture isn't sick, so dull
Just so dulling
Take sleepless icons
Bring the better scene
