Psycho, Groupie, Cocaine, Crazy

thats what i felt, at the end of our long day. thirteen floor-to-ceiling windows, one little me. finally, over a living room full of boxes you can just make out the balti bridge and the rest of docklands. thats what i call a slammin view baby! not quite the 5 star penthouse, though the almost private lift sure as hell made my day! though this 3 day 'workout' was estimated, the aches sneaked up on me, my joints hurt. but then my savior came and rescued my ass!! gave me a reason to dig through stacks for my precious greens...the puff made me feel light once again. ahhh... and this is how it is from start to end... now its half the time to my studio and miles away from mini-eyes-crazy-dyed-hair chinks!! weeeeeeeeeeeeeee

(click click boom!!! where's my southern cross station bum with binoculars?)

leaning forward to pull back

when they say 'one step forward, two steps back', just exactly how bigga steps are they talking about? im stuck in between a new phase and its like when you're trying to avoid raindrops whilst walking down the street, but oh like frank sinatra sang, 'i'm singing in the rain what a glorious feeling, im happy again'.
tis the last night in this tiny box i stare out from. tommorow shall be a new view, another rainy view. and maybe i'll sing in the rain whilst directing my movers to lug my sofa upstairs. one step furthur shall not be the end, even if im taking steps back, i'll be walking with my back towards the end.

(he knew, i knew.. you'll know)