"Where's your mother?" is one of mine, and "Bring me Danegeld" (!?). Sometimes it's whole hunks of a poem... "The king sits in Dunfermline town, Drinking the blude-red wine..."
"And all should cry Beware, beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair..."
Peculiar, innit?
I dreamt I was snubbed by John Hurt last night, and patronised by George Melly.
With my hair completely buzzed off, I look a bit like a fat and poorly Leonard Cohen.The barber nicked me, and all, so I expect I have a nauseating visible scab on the back of my head. it feels gigantic. Musn't pick it. Musn't...
