HEY HEY HEY don't walk away don't be shy gonna make you laugh girl gonna make you mine come on babe just loosen up you're lookin fine girl i don't do that stuff but lemme give you a line PUNK TO THE END and i got the cred vg+ come on over, listen to my records baby come on over...here HEY HEY HEY don't you wanna dance? you should see my moves girl i may be getting older but i'm not gonna lose kids these days don't know what it's like get their PUNK for free you don't understand girl don't look at me i'm a creep i'm a worm i am scum my heart is a chewed-up piece of roadkill i'm gonna give you some hey hey hey come on babe don't walk away take me home girl i don't wanna be alone

boom town gotta keep the wages down tourists gotta keep the immigrants out city... city's full the city is a garden is an eden is a sin a white man chopped down all the trees just to let me in perfection is a diamond is a crystal is a curse a perfect corpse rotting in a beautiful hearse perfection is a nightmare is a needle is a queen you opened up pandora's box just to watch it bleed wire me up coil me round tie me down magnetize me INDUCTOR high rise all along the mountain side landlords gotta keep that mortgage dry small towns all just brooklyn now shut down gotta keep it boring now circle said to the square dressed up like a queen that's the loveliest corner that i have ever seen helvetica futura and nothing in between walkable and violent and modern and clean what's mine is mine what's yours is mine the line is getting thin it's newlywed v nearly dead and no one's gonna win st peter came to visit and inform the next of kin you didn't get here soon enough, so you're not getting in wire me up coil me round tie me down magnetize me INDUCTOR

the door's unlocked but your hands are full your fingers numb so dull & so cold go for a walk ignore the pain you're looking cool another sad boy in the rain i hope you're well okay, I don't. you always said i was hopeless i suppose lost track of the months, weeks, years not the days i don't know what i'd do if i could ever see you again and it's not the things that i'd do or didn't say it's not the blood in my mouth but just the taste it's not the reasons i stayed or didn't go but the thought of your touch still chills me to the bone moved to the west coast took a hike tried to climb a mountain a ghost couldn't climb lost track of the fear love anger not the mistakes and i don't know what i'd do if i ever saw you again

"the first image he told me about was of three children on the road in iceland, in 1965 he said that for him it was the image of happiness, and also that he'd tried several times to link it to other images but it never worked he wrote me: i will have spent my life trying to understand the function of remembering, which is not the opposite of forgetting, but rather its lining we do not remember, we rewrite memory much as history is rewritten how can one remember thirst? 8:40 cambodia in apocalypse now, brando said a few definitive and incommunicable sentences: horror has a name and a face: you must make a friend of horror to cast out the horror that has a name and a face you must give it another name and another face i wish i could convey to you the lack of affectation of this couple who'd come to place an inscribed wooden slat in the cat cemetery so their cat Tora would be protected no, she wasn't dead, just run away but on the day of her death no one would know how to pray for her, how to intercede with death so he would call her by her right name so they had to come there, under the rain, to perform the rite that would repair the web of time where it had been broken he spoke to me of sei shonagon a lady-in-waiting to princess sadako at the beginning of the 11th century shonagon had a passion for lists: a list of elegant things, distressing things, even of things not worth doing one day she got the idea of drawing up a list of things that quicken the heart i'm writing you this from another world - a world of appearances in a way the two worlds communicate with each other history is to one what memory is to the other an impossibility the new bible will be an eternal magnetic tape of a time that will have to reread itself constantly just to know that it existed total recall is memory anesthetized the idea that unhappiness had existed in the past is as unbearable as the existence of poverty in the present on hayao's machine war resembles letters being burned, shredded in a frame of fire one would have to read their last letters to learn that the kamikaze weren't all volunteers before drinking his last cup of sake ryoji uebara had written: we kamikaze pilots are machines, we have nothing to say in the plane i am a machine a bit of magnetized metal that will plaster itself against an aircraft carrier but once on the ground i am a human being with feelings and passions and i thought of all the prayers to time the kindest was the one spoken by the woman of gotokuji who said to her cat Tora, simply: cat, wherever you are, peace be with you when spring came, i took the green train of the yamanote line and got off at tokyo station, near the central post office even if the street was empty i waited at the red light so as to leave space for the spirits of broken cars even if i was expecting no letter, i stopped at the general delivery window, for one must honour the spirit of torn-up letters and at the airmail counter to salute the spirit of unsent letters i took measure of that unbearable vanity of the west that never ceases to privilege being over non-being what is spoken to what is left unsaid then i went down into the basement, where my friend - the maniac - busies himself with his electronic graffiti finally his language touches me, because he speaks to that part of us which insists on drawing profiles on prison walls a piece of chalk to outline the contours of what is not, or is no longer, or is not yet the handwriting each one of us will use to compose their own list of things that quicken the heart to offer or to erase in that moment poetry will be made by everyone and there will be emus in the zone"