black black bulldog
when love and failure are basically the same thing
cosmic dream radio, Episode 2
A radio poem about true love. Where'd you lose that blasted key?
what on earth was I thinking?
"True love has not, as far as I know, been compared by the poets to a bulldog. Yet it has the same sort of grip." --Rebecca West.
Black, black, black is the color of my true love's hair.
sing, woman, sing. deer crash through windows. hell hounds want to play. this crappy bar? you've been here before. nothing's changed. let's turn this basement into a club. everyone's looking for someplace to go.