hanging in the vine
so high you cannot see
Now my mind must go on holiday,
torn from it's hook, a broken valentine
I see the smoke from a revolver,
will I get hit, I hardly care
When I'm bombed
I stretch like bubblegum
and look too long
straight at the morning sun
Love there are flowers
along the avenue,
all things perfectly in place
I build a shrine
I set a monument
because you're fire
because you're a fire escape
Mark Lanegan
(Van het album Bubblegum)