I'm eternally grateful

To my past influences

But they will not free me

I am not diseased

All the people ask me

How I wrote "Elastic Man"*







Life should be full of strangeness

Like a rich painting

But it gets worse day by day

I'm a potential DJ

A creeping wreck

A mental wretch

Everybody asks me

How I wrote "Elastic Man"







His soul hurts though it's well filled up

The praise received is mentally sent back

Or taken apart

The Observer magazine just about sums him up

E.g. self-satisfied, smug







I'm living a fake

People say, "You are entitled to and great."

But I haven't wrote for 90 days

I'll get a good deal and I'll go away

Away from the empty brains that ask

How I wrote "Elastic Man"







His last work was "Space Mystery" in the Daily Mail,

An article in Leather Thighs

The only thing real is waking and rubbing your eyes

So I'm resigned to bed

I keep bottles and comics stuffed by its head

Fuck it, let the beard grow

I'm too tired,

I'll do it tomorrow

The fridge is sparse

But in the town

They'll stop me in the shops

Verily they'll track me down

Touch my shoulder and ignore my dumb mission

And sick red faced smile

And they will ask me

And they will ask me

How I wrote "Elastic Man"