Dance with fire while playing with wood.
Burn for the things you love, let the rest rot.
Stay hungry, fill the eye holes with dreams.
They say, c’est la vie, but you can never tell.
Life is funny.
Pulp Fiction on the telly,
down Jack Rabbit Slim’s,
eyes on hardboiled page turners
inked on pulp.
Lurid, kitschy, spiralling in to unknowns.
Bright lights, dance floor, bare feet twist.
Needle into heart, you only live once.
