you live out where the street ends
in a basement apartment with one of your friends
and the tap drips all night, water torture in the sink.
the furnace is burning but it's still cold, I think.

that takes me back. to a better time and place? perhaps. a different one for certain.

People ask me how I liked Australia. I feel obliged to say that it's a beautiful country, which it is. But that's not what I loved. No, no, no.
This track of mind, of conversation, of analysis, of wishing and hoping and looking back, and crying at memories...it's getting old.
and I'm getting sad.

But for now, I'm out at the hideout.
Out on the far side of town.
You can come, you can stay, if there's something you need...
to get away from.