Created: Thursday, 10 June 2004 Written by Lost in London

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And voices I did hear.

Sleepy voices. Nasty voices. Sexy voices. Golden pill; didst thou slip down my throat to enlighten me?
Dilligent of all expectation I assuaged all alarm in a large gulp.

And then I heard them; the calls of the dead.
No colours, just dread.

Paid me 20 quid and all got was the fear.
I just cant dance to that.