With their tanks and their bombs And their bombs and their guns, In your head, In your head, they are dyin'....
Poor buggers, dunno whats up in my head at the moment but it feels like something up there is dying. Maybe its me. But who is me anyway? Meh. I think I need a hug. My little bit of imaginary tipsyness has worn off and the world is colder on this side. Or it was always cold and someone stole my jumper. This may appear as nonscence, take it as that if you wish, but it is really some of the thoughts flying though my head.....