The Present Never Ends

Song of a Manhattan Suicide Addict 

By Yayoi  Kusama
Swallow antidepressants and it will be all gone
Tear down the gate of hallucination. 

Amidst the agony of flowers, the present never ends

At the stairs of heaven my heart expires in their tenderness. 

Calling from the sky, doubtless, transparent in its shade of blue

Embraced with the shadow of illusion

Cumulonimbi arise. 

Sounds of tears

Shed upon eating the colour of cotton rose

I become a stone 

Not in time eternal

But in the present that transpires. 

(A video installation at the Yayoi Kusama exhibition, National Gallery, Singapore.)

Rollin On a Downslide

Stars Above You

Bowie’s theatrical version was my introduction to this song. It appealed and still does, and perhaps says more about the way I feel about the lyrics.

The Beach Boys’ sound is sweet but it also reeks of puppy love, the lyrics inspired by lust rather than experience. (These guys don’t know what they’re saying.)

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Five Burned With Tyres

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Killed It With Kisses

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