"Can’t go home right now, and that’s the truth
Julie Burchill is drinking free champagne on my roof
And the front door’s off limits, at least to the likes of me
So you see right here, right here
This is my story…
Slept in a strangers flat in all of my clothes
And in the morning took a bus across the city
To feel safer and closer to home
Passed a sign on the door, and a couple more
Saying 'Welcome to Hard Times'
'Welcome to Hard Times'
And I thought of a friend, who’s window looked out onto nothing but fields
While outside mine, a bookshop was closing down
It’s closed now…"

And it starts to look unlikely
As people leave around me

"Helen King wrote a letter to me
Sent May 19th, the day of my birthday
From a desk in a library, in some far off country
“I’m a roving artist now, it’s alright, it’s OK”
Except there’s no magic left in crystal balls
I’m not sure there ever was at all
But listen, what will happen
My favourite question, it’s best left for the last line in a poem…"

And it starts to look unlikely
As people leave around me

FASHIONISTAS WE DON’T NEED YOU