Touch Paper
Edward Michael Tomlin, seventeen, he's not touching your car, mister, so you can put your eyes away, and he's not sizing up to steal your handbag, miss, so you can relax your fingers and,. Touch, streaks across carparks, an oilslick dotted line, one way down. The highstreet on a busy Monday afternoon, WHSmiths, H Samuel, butcher, baker, cash your cheques while you wait, and what the fuck are you looking at.
Sarah Anne Wytchal, nineteen, can hear sister, Jessica, arguing with boyfriend, Jim (but you can call me Jamie, baby, how sweet), about why don't you love me any more and about why do you still see her, and about,. Flick, sparkle, shred, abrasive touch, hot hot heat, friction burns, never gonna go out. And it's mum, now, down the stairs and through the locked door, the voice that says, while the words are inaudible, I've found something, something I've decided not to like. And what is it now? Spark, flicker, between bedsheets and across your, oh that's beautiful, where did you find it?
We were very lucky. Isn't that right, Donovan Regis Smith, twenty, carpe diem, this could be your lucky one. H Samuel, what the fuck you looking at? Do you see something you own, love, cuz I sure as fuck ain't it. If this was your room then maybe I'd think about caring about the snipe snipe snipe you can't seem to resist. Carpe diem means go for throat, Donovan, lying next to Stephanie, who spent all last week with James and isn't that his car outside now? Drum and bass calling cards. Amriq Ahram Khan, sixteen, and who's this pretty young thing, doesn't the disgust in her eye just inspire! Touch, whipping across with bright lights and the target's set and when it hits, fuck, you'll hear it across the city. Woolworths and they want to know if you're gonna pay for that and Jessica, get, off, the, fucking, phone, or if your phone rings now that it, it's all over. He calls you, from outside my house, you'll only get out the house quick enough to meet your clothes as they hit the lawn. Kelly Parker, fifteen, fourteenth on the register, sitting behind Patricia and what are those on her feet, stupid little girl, who does she think she is, sitting in front of Karl and Levi and flick, flick, wanna piece of this, dirty little bitch. And breathe, oxygen behind every door, sucks you in, and spits out - the wallpaper was the cornflower blue of every happy home before we set it black. Whoosh, how'd you like that show?
What did you tell them, Edward? A box of swans, set free in the confines of a small council estate. Sarah's stayed inside to watch it grow and bloom and she knows how it feels, consuming itself, feeding on it's own raw material. But this one, Donovan, this one's gonna last all, and this one Amriq, this one's gonna make the front page. Strike, strike, strike, brimstone and sulpher, pretty little fingers, Kelly, start pretty fucking explosions, and this one's gonna leave it all razed to the ground. Touch flames to the flammable, set fabric ablaze, watch carpet like domestic lakes of fire. What the fuck were they looking at, cuz if it was you, it was the fucking fuse, and if it was you, then they started something they could never put out.
Set fucking fire, set fucking fire, let the motherfuckers burn.
Sarah Anne Wytchal, nineteen, can hear sister, Jessica, arguing with boyfriend, Jim (but you can call me Jamie, baby, how sweet), about why don't you love me any more and about why do you still see her, and about,. Flick, sparkle, shred, abrasive touch, hot hot heat, friction burns, never gonna go out. And it's mum, now, down the stairs and through the locked door, the voice that says, while the words are inaudible, I've found something, something I've decided not to like. And what is it now? Spark, flicker, between bedsheets and across your, oh that's beautiful, where did you find it?
We were very lucky. Isn't that right, Donovan Regis Smith, twenty, carpe diem, this could be your lucky one. H Samuel, what the fuck you looking at? Do you see something you own, love, cuz I sure as fuck ain't it. If this was your room then maybe I'd think about caring about the snipe snipe snipe you can't seem to resist. Carpe diem means go for throat, Donovan, lying next to Stephanie, who spent all last week with James and isn't that his car outside now? Drum and bass calling cards. Amriq Ahram Khan, sixteen, and who's this pretty young thing, doesn't the disgust in her eye just inspire! Touch, whipping across with bright lights and the target's set and when it hits, fuck, you'll hear it across the city. Woolworths and they want to know if you're gonna pay for that and Jessica, get, off, the, fucking, phone, or if your phone rings now that it, it's all over. He calls you, from outside my house, you'll only get out the house quick enough to meet your clothes as they hit the lawn. Kelly Parker, fifteen, fourteenth on the register, sitting behind Patricia and what are those on her feet, stupid little girl, who does she think she is, sitting in front of Karl and Levi and flick, flick, wanna piece of this, dirty little bitch. And breathe, oxygen behind every door, sucks you in, and spits out - the wallpaper was the cornflower blue of every happy home before we set it black. Whoosh, how'd you like that show?
What did you tell them, Edward? A box of swans, set free in the confines of a small council estate. Sarah's stayed inside to watch it grow and bloom and she knows how it feels, consuming itself, feeding on it's own raw material. But this one, Donovan, this one's gonna last all, and this one Amriq, this one's gonna make the front page. Strike, strike, strike, brimstone and sulpher, pretty little fingers, Kelly, start pretty fucking explosions, and this one's gonna leave it all razed to the ground. Touch flames to the flammable, set fabric ablaze, watch carpet like domestic lakes of fire. What the fuck were they looking at, cuz if it was you, it was the fucking fuse, and if it was you, then they started something they could never put out.
Set fucking fire, set fucking fire, let the motherfuckers burn.