Voi elämä. Ja elämän kevät. Eilen oli iso vitutus. Se meni pois, kun päätin lopettaa tipattoman. Strindberg toimi jälleen. Tosin tänään oli taas vitutus, kylläkin pienempi. Ehkä elämään pitää hakea uusi kurssi. Yksi linja löytyi aamulla Marc Almondin Jacky-biisistä. Noi sanahat sopii kuin nyrkki silmään.
Well, what you don't know doesn't hurt you
I'd have to get drunk every night
And talk about virility
With some old grandmother
That might be decked out like a christmas tree
And no pink elephant I'd see
Though I'd be drunk as I could be
Still I would sing my song to me
About the time they called me "jacky"
And if I joined the social whirl
Became procurer of young girls
I'd still know where I'd want to be
Now, tell me, wouldn't it be nice
That if one day in paradise
I'd sing for all the ladies up there
And they would sing along with me
And we be so happy there to be
'cos down below is really nowhere
I know that every single night
When my angelic work was through
The angels and the devil too
Could sing my childhood song to me