Tag Archives: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Who the Heck Knows Anything, Right??

So much for working on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town yesterday.

For some unknown yet delightful reason, I suddenly began writing a new erotic short story yesterday — I didn’t even know it was lurking in there, even though I do want to write more erotic short stories (see yesterday’s post). I came back from the market, put the groceries away, sat down at my desk and suddenly, the story was there.

It’s maybe almost halfway finished. I’m already at 4000 words. (I know! So odd, right? How stories will just suddenly come. Aside from speaking with Valerie for a bit yesterday, I was working on the short story for 9 hours, and will be working on it all day today, too.)

And what’s even all-out weirder is that it’s a futanari story. Futanari is now pretty much only a hentai porn term for hermaphrodites (generally: extremely sexy females who also have huge cocks) (in hentai animation). But it used to be more of a Japanese folklore term, a long  long time ago.

But anyway, I am not into futanari porn.  I find androgyny sort of appealing, a tiny bit, maybe,  but not enough to think I would ever in a million years write about it erotically. Ever.

And yet… 4000 words later, I’m not even halfway done.

So strange. But I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

The story is titled “Half-Moon Bride”. In Japanese folklore, a “half-moon” futanari was someone of one sex who switched sexes on the full moon. So I’m guessing you can kinda see where the bride on this particular wedding night is headed…. (and our poor bride has no idea what she is yet, but as luck would have it, she’s marrying a full-futa and so he/she is going to be able to help her out with that.)

I won’t go into any more of the details. Obviously, it’s hardcore fantasy erotica which is not the kind of erotica I usually write. So everything, on every level of this story, has been a complete surprise to me.

Well, okey-dokey.

The trip into town yesterday was illuminating. With school starting back this week, the grocery store was empty. However, the Home Depot parking lot next door to it was jammed. And some of the more breakfast-type restaurants were busy again (by social distancing standards). But, overall, lots less cars on the streets.

Going back to school seems to still change everything, with or without COVID. It just signals: Fall is coming. (And yet, it’s still August…)

Anyway. Life’s good.

Valerie and I are just about ready to sign off on the cover layout for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. And then I can order my test print and see if I’m happy or not. I still have to format the ePub file, but once I do that, the eBook will be published, too.

So we are almost there.

Well, I’m going to get started here today. I hope you are having a truly terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world!! I leave you with a song I have posted here before — one of my favorite songs by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, “Do You Love Me (Part 2),” from that truly amazing album Let Love In from 1994 (which seems like yesterday, but my higher math skills assure me it was 26 years ago… wtf???). However, in case you missed it the last time I posted it, here it is again!! So enjoy and thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya.

“Do You Love Me? (Part 2)”

Onward! And Onward! And Onward I go
Where no man before could be bothered to go
Till the soles of my shoes are shot full of holes
And it’s all downhill with a bullet
This ramblin’ and rovin’ has taken its course
I’m grazing with the dinosaurs and the dear old horses
And the city streets crack and a great hole forces
Me down with my soapbox, my pulpit
The theatre ceiling is silver star-spangled
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

There’s a man in the theatre with girlish eyes
Who’s holding my childhood to ransom
On the screen there’s a death, there’s a rustle of cloth
And a sickly voice calling me handsome
There’s a man in the theatre with sly girlish eyes
On the screen there’s an ape, a gorilla
There’s a groan, there’s a cough, there’s a rustle of cloth
And a voice that stinks of death and vanilla
This is a secret, mauled and mangled
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

The walls of the ceiling are painted in blood
The lights go down, the red curtains come apart
The room is full of smoke and dialogue I know by heart
And the coins in my pocket jingle-jangle
As the great screen crackled and popped
The clock of my boyhood was wound down and stopped
And my handsome little body oddly propped
And my trousers right down to my ankles
Yes, it’s onward! And upward!
And I’m off to find love
Do you love me? If you do, I’m thankful

This city is an ogre squatting by the river
It gives life but it takes it away, my youth
There comes a time when you just cannot deliver
This is a fact. This is a stone cold truth.
Do you love me?
I love you, handsome
But do you love me?
Yes, I love you, you are handsome
Amongst the cogs and the wires, my youth
Vanilla breath and handsome apes with girlish eyes
Dreams that roam between truth and untruth
Memories that become monstrous lies
So onward! And Onward! And Onward I go!
Onward! And Upward! And I’m off to find love
With blue-black braclets on my wrists and ankles
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

© 1994 Nick Cave

What A Great Day Yesterday Was!!

Oh my gosh, gang, I got such great writing done yesterday.

It was one of those days, where I sat down to the manuscript around 10:30am, and then the next thing I knew, it was 5pm. The day had absolutely flown. And the words just hit the page without any trouble at all.

I was so happy. It was just such a great day.

But then for some reason, I had some trouble sleeping last night. I’m not sure why. I awoke and then started checking stuff on my phone in order to keep my mind off of worrying. And there was an email from Valerie and she sounded really fed up with trying to get the text to look right for the back cover of The Guitar Hero Goes Home.

But as far as I could tell, the images looked just fine. I even got out of bed and checked them on my laptop, and I couldn’t understand what she was talking about. But she did seem really fed up with it.

Anyway, then I laid awake for 2 hours. Trying not to worry about everything under the sun. And then I was suddenly dead asleep for about 5 more hours (!!), and I had a really unpleasant, sort of post-apocalyptic dream. I had never actually had a dream quite like it before. And then my eyes sort of sprang open and I was awake.

But now — well I did all my Inner Being journaling, and my re-calibrating journaling and my meditation and I did the treadmill AND used my amazing new vacuum cleaner again!!! So I am once again in a great space and I think I’m going to have another great day.

Well, I guess this is going to be a short post today, folks. I want to get back to Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town. I hope you are enjoying your Sunday, wherever you are in the world.  Sort of scary that there is only one more weekend after this and then it will be September. I am really seriously trying not to dwell on it, how quickly this summer disappeared.

Don’t forget that the fan music videos are still going on today over at Bad Seed TeeVee. You can check them out at that link!

I leave you with my evening-listening music from yesterday. An old song that always makes me think of my biological half-brother, because this album (Centerfield by John Fogerty) was a huge hit the spring that I met my brother (1986 ). The album had already been out for a year, but the songs were still really popular. I was 25 years old when I met my half-brother for the first time, and he was 19. It was incredible and intense and he meant so much to me, from the very moment I met him.

He was/is an unbelievably insane alcoholic, and back then, he had a really violent temper when he got drunk. And he would just get SO drunk, with that hair-trigger temper. It got scary. But back then, my birth mom was living with this wonderful truck driver who was a lot scarier when he wanted to be, so it kept my brother balanced out. For a while.

Anyway. One gorgeous spring morning at dawn during my first trip to visit them, I awoke to find my brother standing next to my bed, teetering and swaying — he was so fucking drunk. And he looked down at me and said, “You are so pretty.” And I thought: oh, shit.

But he had his little portable boombox with him and he suddenly hit the play button and, super loudly, at dawn, everyone in the house sleeping, John Fogerty’s Centerfield album came blasting out. It was already one of my favorite albums , but now all I think of when I listen to it are those memories of that first time I met my half-brother.

All righty. Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with “I Saw It On TV” from Centerfield (1985). Enjoy!!! I love you guys. See ya.

“I Saw It On TV”

They sent us home to watch the show coming on the little screen
A man named Ike was in the white house big black limousine
There were many shows that followed from hooter to dootyville
Though I saw them all I can’t recall which cartoon were real
The coonskin caps Yankee bats the hound dog man’s big start
The A bomb fears Annette had ears I lusted in my heart
A young man from Boston said “sail the new frontier”
And we watched the dream dead end in Dallas
They buried innocence that year

[Chorus:]
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.

We gathered round to hear the sound coming on the little screen
The grief had passed the old men laughed and all the girls screamed
‘Cause four guys from England took all by the hand
It was time to laugh time to sing time to join the band

But all too soon we hit the moon and covered up the sky
They built the bombs and aimed their guns and still I don’t know why
The dominoes tumbled and big business roared
Every night at six they showed the pictures and counted up the score

[Chorus:]
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.

The Old man rocks among his dreams a prisoner of the porch
The light he said at the end of the tunnel
Was nothing but a burglar’s torch
And them that was caught in the cover are all rich and free
But they chained my mind to an endless tune
When they took my only son from me

[Chorus:]
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.

© 1985 John Fogerty

It’s All Getting Better & Better!!

Well, some good news re: the virus — at least around these parts!

The next county over, where I do all my marketing — and, wherein, my beloved Granville Inn is also contained — now has only 211 active cases of the virus. No longer anywhere near “Code Red.” And apparently, Muskingum County is back down to basically no active cases. (And I believe we only had one death connected to it, but I’m not positive if that number is accurate anymore.)

So, that is good news. Finally. (BTW, the good news doesn’t necessarily pertain to the State of Ohio, as a whole. A couple of the larger cities still have high numbers, but the number of new cases all over the State has indeed gone down. So we’re on our way!! Again.)

The other good news around here is that I was able to finally stop looking at (so much) porn and actually made room in my day to get some great work done on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town yesterday. Yay!

To be serious, though — all this porn lately has been mostly research for Thug Luckless, since he is an AI sex robot and I don’t know what it’s like to own one or to develop feelings for one, etc. And as intriguing as those types of porn videos actually are (homemade videos of guys & gals having sex with their dolls and robots), they always stick a link in there that takes you off in another unexpected direction, and before you know it, you have left those hallowed halls of research and are just watching (tons of ) awesome & addicting porn…

And I wish I could say that all this lockdown and quarantine stuff is what has turned me into a hardcore porn fan, however,  COVID 19 is a relatively new development…

And I also have to say that 95% of the porn that’s out there really bores me. I have a narrow and rigid set of (mostly super fetishistic) criteria for what interests me, porn-wise — or it just has to be unexpectedly unexpected. (For instance, I stumbled upon this teenage Russian guy yesterday who has apparently been quite an exhibitionist for quite a while now, but he was new to me. And I found him just fascinating.  And he was one of those reasons why cellphones are kind of awesome. I think all porn should come from teenage guys alone in their rooms, regardless of what language they speak, because all the best porn has always come from teenage guys, even when they are long past their actual teenage years.) (I’m sort of just kidding about that — no need to encourage teenage boys the world over to start sending me their homemade porn. Thank you very much, though, for thinking of me.)

Okay. So!  Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays are the days I work on Thug and last weekend was a sort of washout, so I was really glad to finally have some new pages come out that I really liked. The storyline is starting to get a little dark, but it’s a post-apocalyptic, dystopian, erotic science fiction novel, so it’s just gonna get dark. Plain & simple.

On other topics…

As far as those fan music videos on Bad Seed TeeVee — 99% of the ones I have managed to catch have been just beautiful. I think they’re streaming all weekend so you can still check them out here.

I saw one guy singing “Avalanche” and his voice was just stunning. Really beautiful. Even though “Avalanche” is technically a Leonard Cohen song, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds covered it very early on — early 80s, I think.

But I just love to see what singers & musicians, in general, come up with nowadays. Especially since it has now gotten so incredibly affordable to just make great music on your laptop and/or your phone.

All righty. I’m gonna get back to work here on Thug. I hope you’re having a terrific Saturday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. I have nothing to leave you with today. There was utter silence in my kitchen this morning — except of course for the crickets. Not even a single bird song until 6:24am. It is just so bittersweet — how the summer has raced away from me. But I’m sure you have your own music to listen to, so enjoy!! I love you guys. See ya!

Mice, not practicing social distancing

 

 

 

 

Things Are Pretty Swell Here in Crazeysburg!!

Yes, we have finally hit on the cover layout for The Guitar Hero Goes Home, now all we need to do is insert the text on the back cover and I can order the test print!!

I already know that the page numbering is screwed up and I can’t fix it, because my manuscript is locked into that Beta template that no longer exists. But if that’s the only thing that’s out of whack, I’m going to be okay with it. (The page numbers begin on the first page, which is the copyrights page, which is never where the page numbering begins, but that’s that.)

Here is a sample of the cover design without the info for the back cover:

It’s actually a very bright yellow, which isn’t really coming across here, except in that little square for the barcode. But you get the idea. The color really just pops.

So I’m very happy! We are almost there, gang.

Another thing that has me over the moon with happiness: Wow!! My brand new vacuum cleaner arrived yesterday and I can’t believe how fantastic it is.

I have had so many different types of vacuum cleaners throughout my life, from really cheap no-name brands, to the expensive Dyson models. I’ve had canisters and uprights and no-cord stick models. And my favorites by far are the Eureka Uprights.

I thought I really loved the Eureka Airspeeds, but this time I bought a Eureka Powerspeed because it was on sale and I have to watch every penny right now.

When I took it out of the box, I was feeling disappointed because it just seemed so cheap compared to the Airspeed. Meaning really cheap plastic, and less parts, and it just didn’t seem like it was going to tackle all that cat hair.

But, wow. I could not believe how great it was. It is just the most awesome vacuum cleaner I have ever owned.  And it is light as a feather. And it was just amazing, the amount of cat hair it picked up.  I haven’t seen my carpet looking this good since I moved in. (Although “good” is qualified by the fact I actually need to replace all the carpeting because it’s really old and has stains from the previous owners. But still!!)

Between that dust buster I bought a few months ago, and now this new vacuum cleaner, I am at last a very happy homemaker.

Okay, I had the funniest dreams. Both of them had my adoptive mother in them, but in a very nonthreatening way.

In one dream, I was standing at her bedroom door, trying to get her attention to tell her something, but she was in bed using a vibrator that was so loud, she couldn’t hear me.  (So weird, right??) (And as far as I know, my mother was not the vibrator-using type. There was a vibrator still in its box, with no batteries, that was stuck in a drawer in the buffet in the dining room (!!). It sat there  for a few years, until I finally figured out what it was, when I was about 13, and I absconded with it to my room and there it remained, fulfilled in its purpose for being, and unmissed by anyone else in the house.) (And I guarantee you, the vibrators today are way more amazing then they were back in those days, but we made do. Beggars can’t be choosers.)

And in the other dream, I was getting ready to go to Girl Scout sleepaway camp and I was worried that I was going to miss the bus that was going to take me there. And then I had a sort of epiphany and I said to my mother, “I don’t think I should go to camp. All the girls in the tent will be 9 years old and I’m 60. It just doesn’t make sense.” And then my mother smiled at me. This smile that implied I had finally grown up.

So weird! But really funny when I woke up and thought about it all. (I’m still not planning on acting my age anytime soon, but I don’t think I need to go quite so far back as 9.)

Okay! The weekend has begun over at Bad Seed TeeVee, where they are going to show music videos made by fans of Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds throughout the whole weekend.  I’ve watched a couple of them so far, and they are, once again, really imaginative.  You can watch them here.

And as I mentioned yesterday, the official Tom Petty website has begun releasing songs from the upcoming Wildflowers part 2 boxed set onto YouTube, so now we can watch them until our wee bonny hearts are content.

(I believe it is actually going to be called Wildflowers & All the Rest.)

The collection won’t be coming out until mid-October, but I really do think it’s going to be an amazing set. I think Tom Petty, wherever he is now, is really happy about these songs being released finally, since he wanted them released in his lifetime, but apparently could not figure out how best to market them if he did.

What better way than to market them posthumously, when they are guaranteed to sell?

Problem solved.

Okay, gang! I have not yet worked out here. And I’m not sure what I want to do– yoga, treadmill, aerobics… So I’m going to think about that and then get this day underway.

Thanks for visiting, gang. I hope you are enjoying your Friday, wherever you are in the world. I leave you with 2 of the new releases from Wildflowers part two (“There Goes Angela” — I love that song — and his original home demo for the song “Wildflowers”  — a video that features Tom with one of his many dogs and a cat.)  Enjoy!! I love you guys. See ya.

All Righty! We’re Gonna Try Not To Look at Porn Here Today!!

It wasn’t my fault, actually. It was Valerie’s.

I was just killing time, waiting for her phone call because she texted me early yesterday morning, to say she had finished the layout for the cover design of The Guitar Hero Goes Home and would send it over momentarily and then call me to discuss it…

I didn’t want to get too involved with anything important because I would only get interrupted when her phone call came. So, of course, I was looking at even more Hentai 3D Monster Porn. (See my posts from the last 2 or 3 days…) (To be fair, there is a whole lot of that stuff, gang, and the deeper you dig into it, the more your mind just gets totally blown.)

But, actually — in all seriousness– part of it is research, although I’m not going to say for what.

Anyway. Hours were flying by. Literally. Hours. Monster Porn-filled hours.

I went out to the yard and took care of all the flowers. I had lunch. I looked at the mail. Paid some bills. Looked at the phone for perhaps a text from Valerie. An update of sorts. Nothing.

So I looked at more monster porn. And gradually it became less about “research” and more about: holy shit, this stuff is fucking insane. (I actually totally love 3D hentai, and hentai monster porn is my all-out favorite, mostly because the minds that create this stuff astound me.)

Eventually, I got a text from Valerie, saying that the phone call wasn’t gonna happen (oh really?) and then I called my dad. I had dinner. I streamed some more of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (I’m back to season 1 because I’m done with all the newer seasons now and don’t want to let it go, and have discovered that I don’t recall any of the episodes from season 1 because it was 8 years ago, so it’s once again, brand new to me).

And then, the evening was so fucking lovely — just the most amazing evening for mid-August. So I sat at the kitchen table, gave one happy eye to Miss Fisher and the other deeply happy eye to my phone, where upon I began looking at even more Hentai 3D Monster Porn and was finally forced to admit to myself that the screen was way too small on the phone…

So I closed down the house for the night, even though it was only 7:30pm and even though the evening was so fucking lovely, and I went back upstairs to the 14-inch-screen on the  laptop and spent the rest of the night in my room.

By the time I was finally indescribably supersaturated with monster porn, it was pitch dark outside. Jesus, you know?? I could not believe myself. Even though, technically, I did do other things throughout the day yesterday, I was basically looking at monster porn for 12 hours.

(And it was actually really fun.)

However. You know. You don’t want to have a day like that twice in a row. You might start to feel like a slacker.

So.

There is a very good chance Valerie is calling me this afternoon, but I’m not going to plan on it. I’m going to just get to work here. I know that if she doesn’t call me today, she will call tomorrow, so I’m going to focus on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town and just see how the day unfolds.

I can’t tell you how beautiful it is again here today, gang. Just another truly stunning day.  My new vacuum cleaner hasn’t arrived yet, but I’m actually really excited about getting it. I love getting new vacuum cleaners.  And even though I vacuumed the whole house on Sunday (before the old vacuum cleaner exploded), the house already needs to be vacuumed again. (The joys of 7 strictly indoor cats…) So I can’t wait!! I hope it arrives today.

Meanwhile…

The Nick Cave Instagram feed announced this morning that this upcoming weekend is when they will show all those videos that fans have sent in of themselves and/or their bands, doing covers of songs by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. Apparently, every entry will play on the Bad Seed TeeVee channel. So tune-in and watch everybody!! And then one winner will be selected.

(And the lucky winner will not win £200 wallpaper from cavethings.com…)

Load image into Gallery viewer, Hyatt Girls Wallpaper
Hyatt Girls wallpaper

(I really love that wallpaper but I cannot wrap my mind around the £200 price tag right now.  Even though I don’t have a room in this house wherein I could actually hang that wallpaper, still.  You know. I’d like to buy it and maybe save it for the next house, or my room in the nursing home. At least, I’d be assured to get visitors in my old age…)

Well, all right. I’m gonna get started here today. For real, this time. Have a great Wednesday, wherever you are in the world!! Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with a dirty song about a man in love with another man’s truck….(or is it?? You decide!!). The Traveling Wilburys’ “Dirty World” from the 1988 album,The Traveling Wilburys, Vol. 1. Okay! Enjoy, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

“Dirty World”

He loves your sexy body, he loves your dirty mind
He loves when you hold him, grab him from behind
Oh baby, you’re such a pretty thing
I can’t wait to introduce you to the other members of my gang

You don’t need no wax job, you’re smooth enough for me
If you need your oil changed I’ll do it for you free
Oh baby, the pleasure would be all mine
If you let me drive your pickup truck and park it where the sun don’t shine

Every time he touches you his hair stands up on end
His legs begin to quiver and his mind begins to bend
Oh baby, you’re such a tasty treat
But I’m under doctor’s orders, I’m afraid to overeat

He loves your sense of humor, your disposition too
There’s absolutely nothing that he don’t love about you
Oh baby, I’m on my hands and knees
Life would be so simple if I only had you to please

Oh baby, turn around and say goodbye
You go to the airport now and I’m going home to cry
He loves your…

Electric dumplings
Red bell peppers
Fuel injection
Service charge
Five-speed gearbox
Long endurance
Quest for junk food
Big refrigerator
Trembling Wilbury
Marble earrings
Porky curtains
Power steering
Bottled water
Parts and service

Dirty world, a dirty world, it’s a fucking dirty world

© 1988 – George Harrison, Tom Petty, Bob Dylan, Jeff Lynne,  Roy Orbison

Happy Tuesday to All You Groovy Cats & Kittens!!

Another splendid day here in Crazeysburg. I hope you’ve got similar weather wherever you are in the world.

If you follow zodiac-celestial things, you are likely aware that we have a killer new moon going on right now. And by “killer” I only mean that it’s one of those new moons that cause emotional chaos and are putting most people on edge.

So if you’re feeling a little crazy and don’t know why — by Thursday , everything should work itself out quite nicely.

I hope.

My world is actually kind of fine.  The trip into town yesterday was effortless. I managed to get there and back and do the marketing in a little over an hour, which means I must have been speeding in both directions, because it’s not really possible to get to town and back, let alone also do the marketing in less than an hour and a half if you’re going the speed limit…

I got a wonderful little text from my ex-husband in NYC last evening. Well, he’s not in NYC right now. He and one of his brothers rented a pick-up truck and took a drive out West. And yesterday, they reached Montana — West Yellowstone, to be exact, where my friend Kevin lives from May to October. (This is the Kevin who keeps his 1965 VW camper van in my barn all summer). I had told Wayne to look up Kevin when they got to West Yellowstone.

Well, lo & behold, the text came last evening with photos of Wayne (my ex) and Kevin — both smiling happily!!!! It was so cool. And guess what was in the background of one of the photos? Kevin’s other 1965 vintage VW camper van!! Only that one was sky blue and the one Kevin keeps here is dark green.

1965 VW Split Screen 11 Window Camper Van – Left Hand Drive ...
This is not Kevin’s but his camper in Montana looks like this.

It was just so nice to see them together in the photos. And so weird to think the two of them have now met — no one who I have become friends or acquaintances with since 2003 has ever met Wayne. It’s so odd that the one and only person who now has met him would be Kevin. In Montana, no less. Thousands of miles from here.

My chat yesterday with the other Kevin — the man who is directing my play — was just so great, gang. I am so excited about this staged reading getting underway. And some early feedback I am getting from actors and tech people regarding the actual play (meaning they read the script), is kind of blowing me away.  It means so much to me that they are able to relate to what I’ve written about Helen LaFrance’s life.

As you are likely aware, here in America, a faction of the black entertainment community has come down really hard on white people telling the stories of black lives. Which is why the original reading that was set to happen in June came to a screeching halt during the nationwide riots. And also why I was beginning to fear my play would never be produced in the US and would have to be produced in another country.

Well, I can’t tell you how happy the early feedback is making me feel (from black actors telling the director).  I’m still trying to keep a low profile, though, in all of this because I want the play to speak for itself, and for the attention to be on Helen’s art and life, not on whoever wrote the play.

But I am indeed very quietly excited out here in the middle of Nowhere, Ohio. I have been working on this project for 8 years now.

By the way, we have decided to make the reading entirely free to stream, and we’ll likely keep it free for at least a couple of weeks after the initial event, and then make it password protected after that. But please try to watch it!! Since it won’t happen until Sunday evening, November 8th, there is plenty of time for me to constantly remind you!!

(It will stream on YouTube, here on this blog, on the Tell My Bones web site and Facebook page, and on a number of other entertainment-based web sites.)

Well, speaking of web sites that are “entertainment” based, I was streaming more hentai 3D monster porn yesterday when I unfortunately stumbled upon what looked like a front for really horrible porn that uses young Asian women who are most probably victims of human sex trafficking.

It absolutely turned my stomach. If you have had enough experience with producers of  professional porn, the difference in “regular” porn — even BDSM porn — and porn that exploits slavery and uses actual slaves against their will is often glaringly obvious: the women (or children) look terrified, demoralized, drugged and/or half-dead.

I reported the company on the National Human Trafficking website. It’s hard to say if anything can come from it — the “production” company is based in Los Angeles, but the videos themselves were from Asia.

You know, if you live in the US, and you think any type of human trafficking is going on — porn, prostitution, or labor-related– you can easily report it anonymously, through sending a message or live chat on their website (humantraffickinghotline.org/), calling them 1-888-373-7888 ( TTY: 711) or texting them, 233733.

That stuff just makes me so sick. I just can’t tell you.

On another topic…

Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand File today that was one of those really eloquent ones.  Be sure to set aside plenty of time to read it and take in the full scope of it. I am, of course, just kidding. It’s one of those replies that is only one word. But, still — it was a really good word. You can read it here.

Well, all righty!! That’s it for today, gang. Depending on whether or not I hear from Valerie today, I’m either working on the finishing touches for the publication of The Guitar Hero Goes Home, or I’m working on some new stuff for Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town.

And in the middle of all of it, I eagerly await the arrival of my new vacuum cleaner!!

So, have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning — “Right Now I’m A-Roaming”, 1997, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. (It’s come out on a  few things, but I know it from their 2005 collection B-Sides & Rarities.) I’ve posted it here a couple of times before, but here it is again! So, enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!

“Right Now I’m A-roaming”

When I get home, I’m gunna clean up my house
When I get home, I’m gunna kick out that mouse
When I get home, I’m gunna put things in order
but right now, right right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna make that call
When I get home, I’m gunna talk it through
When I get home, I’m gunna straighten it out
but right now, right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna give up the booze
When I get home, I’m gunna get me some food
When I get home, I’m gunna quit them drugs
but right now, right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna call my mother
When I get home, I’m gunna cook her some dinner
When I get home, I’m gunna invite my brothers
but right now, right right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna see my little boy
When I get home, I’m buy him a little toy
When I get home, he’s gunna jump for joy
but right now, right right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna unpack my bags
When I get home, I’m gunna waash these dirty rags
When I get home, I’m gunna pack ’em up again
but I’m gunna go, I’m gunna go, I’m gunna go right back roaming.

© – 1997 Martyn Casey, Mick Harvey, Conway Savage, Thomas Wydler, Nick Cave

Another Productive Day in the Hinterlands!

Yesterday was, I mean.

But first!! The Tom Petty website released another song yesterday that will be in the upcoming Wildflowers PT. 2 boxed set. It is called “There Goes Angela” and it was just lovely, gang! An acoustic home demo. I really loved it. I cannot find a link anymore to how you can listen to it (they had it posted yesterday). But it was one of those true Tom Petty awesome acoustic songs where he empowers the woman alone in the world, as he usually did in his songs.

Also, Nick Cave’s website revealed Cave Things today!! A place where you can buy sort of extremely expensive things that Nick Cave has designed or curated in some way. The items are really cool. Some of them are “coming soon,” but the descriptions are already there. Everything is pretty much on the pricey side. For instance, a really nice guitar pick with Warren Ellis’s picture on it, which in US dollars cost about $4, before shipping. So that’s sort of a pricey guitar pick that, you know, if I bought it I would be afraid to use, because I wouldn’t want to damage it, or anything.

Still, the stuff is really cool, but being the somewhat lowly scribe that I am, I cannot afford any of the items I actually really want. But check them out anyway, because if you are not a writer, then you can probably afford everything!!

So. Yesterday.

I spent the entire day working on the re-edits of The Muse Revisited collection and came to the decision that the “new” revised edition will only be one book, and only available in trade paper, POD (Print On Demand).

My decision came about because of the page count.

It turns out Volume 1 has a really small page count, so it doesn’t really make sense to offer it separately in trade paper, even though the page count works fine for an eBook.

Then Volume 2 has a really high page count. And volume 3 has a kind of average page count.

But if I put it all together in one book — all 3 volumes, together — it becomes way too expensive for Print On Demand.  So then I thought, what if I pull some of the stories, to ease up on the page count, put it out as one new collection…

…but then I couldn’t offer it as an eBook because it would potentially cannibalize any sales of the tons of eBooks I already have in the marketplace, published by myself and other more traditional publishers who wouldn’t appreciate that at all.

So then I finally came up with the idea to put it out under one cover, but only as POD trade paper.

So I pulled the erotic memoir, the erotic fantasy stories, and the erotic romance stories from the (new) 4th volume. It’s only traditional erotic fiction. But then I’m adding some stories that were not included in volumes 1-3. And now the collection covers 1994-2012, and as of right now, has 25 previously published erotic fiction stories in it.

Plus! I finally found a copy of that publishing history that SomethingDark.eu had published in 2012, and so that will be included in the back of the book, and it lists my publications, honors and awards from 1990 to 2012, and also includes a list of all the reviews I wrote of erotic fiction and nonfiction books for various magazines and websites back in the early 2000’s. But it doesn’t include the erotic art shows I curated in NYC, or any of the multi-media work I produced, which was just a hugely massive amount of work (1997-2006).

But I thought it would make for an interesting book. Again, everything in it is previously published and will really only be for people who prefer books over eBooks.

The title is: The Muse Revisited, Volume 4: The Selected Erotic Fiction of Marilyn Jaye Lewis, 1994-2012. And the cover art is going to be black & white and feature this photo below in some way, that Valerie took of me at Coney Island in 1995, just prior to my 35th birthday.

June 1995 Coney Island, Brooklyn NY

I don’t know — you can sort of tell by the expression on my face that we probably weren’t up to any good.  Holly Lane was there that day, too, because the Mermaid Parade was going on that day. And if you were ever at a Mermaid Parade at Coney Island in the old days — nothing respectable at all was ever going on. And it was a blast.

Okay, so I started a new publishing company, Marilyn’s Room Books, and it will be at marilynsroombooks.com — although nothing is there yet. I don’t know if I’ll just keep it as a vanity press or publish other writers down the road, but here’s the logo, in case you’re interested:

And here, for your reading pleasure, is one story from Volume 4, that does not appear in the other volumes.  It is not what I would call “erotic,” necessarily — it’s more about erotic cannibalism.  It is microfiction (less than 300 words), and it appeared in Dirty: Dirty: An Illustrated Anthology of Dirty Writing published by Jaded Ibis Press, 2013, and was written expressly for them.

(And with that, I’m gonna leave you, gang!! I gotta get ready for Abstract Absurdity Productions work here today! Thanks for visiting, though. I love you guys. See ya!)

**************************************************

“We Warned Her”
© 2012 Marilyn Jaye Lewis

It was autumn, so we slung her over the split-rails to dry in the crisper breezes, knowing the smoky air would trap the piquant flavor of her and keep it that way all through the winter. Sweet meat where there were once tight curls of flaming red hairs; those lips hairless now, smooth and cool. The throbbing, over. The tender folds salted and the blood drained. In spring, she was succulent to the eye – engorged, even, to the point where she’d driven us mad. We’d warned her: “From here, we can see your thigh!” She’d laughed at us – her mirth like tinkling bells strung through plum blossoms that are caught on the gentle wind of an April rain. We could hardly fault her for it – that blithe laugh. She’d seemed as intoxicated by spring as the dewy hyacinth blossoms, or as the swollen buds of the old roses that had not yet burst with their sultry fragrance of sin. She’d refused to believe us, yet here was her proof: gone now, from the waist up. Splitter-splatter went the shards of bone in blood. “Straighten your skirts,” we’d urged her. “Don’t sit that way – we’re going balmy!” Lewdly was how she sat, legs splayed down in the grass, those flowery dresses with their many underskirts of lace raised too high. Until it was plain that she’d worn nothing under those lacy skirts; that the fleshy folds beneath the tight red curls were swollen and wet with something salty-sweet. In the summer, she was even worse.  (“I want to devour you,” I’d whispered once, my fingers plunging up into her while I lost control of my very breath. I licked them then – my fingers – and madly kissed the side of her damp face.)

© 2012 Marilyn Jaye Lewis

Trying to Make this Day Not Suck!!!

Even though I don’t have television and I don’t listen to the radio, I still get plenty of really terrible fucking news.

It can get so difficult to pull myself up out of that garbage once it gets into my head.

COVID 19 is, of course, surging everywhere once again — and not just in America. And even though the vaccine is really really close (yay!! — Phase 3 of the clinical trials are beginning), the cure is what we need because…

Nick Cave’s Instagram feed announced this morning that tickets for the Ghosteen tour of Europe next summer are back on sale and even though I already have my ticket — thanks to my friends in Switzerland — at this rate, without a cure, as an American, I will likely never be allowed to travel anywhere ever again.

So a cure would come in really handy right now. (I’m getting really tired of worrying about absolutely everybody; it’s time for me to be really selfish now. I want to see Nick Cave. So please find the cure!!)

Also, the surge in the violation of the 1st Amendment Rights of college and university students all over America is the scariest fucking thing I’ve encountered short of the white Anarchist-Socialists absconding with the Black Lives Matter movement — and leaving Black people — whose lives actually do matter — once more in the fucking dust. (“Black Lives Matter” now basically only means “I Hate Trump”.)

If you are interested in helping to fight for the Freedom of Speech rights of students, you can check out (and join) the Speech First movement.  They are a not-for-profit, run primarily by women, fighting for the rights of students. On Instagram, they are @speech_first.

If you aren’t aware of how bad it’s getting here in the US — students who express opposing viewpoints to the extreme Leftist/Socialist/Progressives masquerading as Democrats, are not only physically assaulted on campuses but receive death threats and have vicious online hate campaigns started against them, which are often sanctioned by the faculty.

And those “old school” teachers  who don’t get on board the new train to violent Intolerance Land, also get those online hate campaigns started against them and can then even lose their fucking jobs.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (Full-length Play)

And lest we forget, gang, this once actually happened:

Auschwitz pleads with 'disrespectful' visitors to stop posing on ...
Train tracks leading to Auschwitz

Well, okay.

The earthquake in Los Angeles did lead to canceling my meeting yesterday with Peitor (which has been moved to today instead.) (I know — it’s my day to focus only on writing Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town, so, yes, I am a wee bit irritated. ) But I did do a ton of Abstract Absurdity Productions work on my own, yesterday. Including a one-hour phone conference with the accountant in NYC, regarding setting up our LLC, etc., and my brain had pretty much exploded by the time I got off the phone call.

But as far as I know, the earthquake was not Peitor’s fault, so I’m going to try really, really hard to not be irritable through the entire 2-hour phone call today.

And then the rest of the day (and whole weekend, in fact) will be devoted to working on Thug Luckless. So I need to look at the bright side.

Okay. I know you’re really dying to be updated on this: My workout routine now consists of 2 mornings of yoga, 2 mornings of the treadmill, and 2 mornings of aerobics — and then one morning to just say “fuck it” and not workout at all.

I really feel great — I do — but I am not losing even an ounce of fucking weight. It is making me completely insane because, as loyal readers of this lofty blog know so well, I eat really really boring, healthy non-fattening vegetarian food. So why I’ve put on 12 pounds and can’t budge it off of me, is something that leads only to madness if I ponder it too much.

So the only other option is to just stay off the fucking scale until the virus is finally gone from our cultural landscape. So that’s what I’m going to do.

Gone are the days of this past winter, when I had that crazy digital scale that repeatedly enabled me to reach my goal weight in about 3 hours’ time. I miss that!! I don’t fucking care if it’s lying to me at this point, just tell me I lost 12 pounds!! Restore to me the beautiful life I had 12 pounds ago!!

Anyway. I’m not really that insane, but it does bother me.

Okay.  I am just going to say one other thing that is bothering the fuck out of me:  certain family members. Who refuse to ever just tell me that I’m a good writer. And even when something I’ve written has brought tears to their eyes, they can’t say that what I wrote was good. And if I tell them that other people responded really positively to it, too, then those readers “are closeted gays.”

Okay, thank you. Thanks for that. Thanks for that vote of encouragement, you know? I’m fucking 60 now — you’d think it would stop mattering that my family doesn’t support my writing. Or that they can insult all of my readers, all over the world, in one fell fucking swoop. But it does indeed bug the shit out of me.

Jesus.

But I don’t want to be part of the “cancel culture.” Don’t want to disallow that everyone is entitled to their opinions.  So, I just bite my tongue, as they say, and I move on.

Well, all righty! I’m going to get going here, gang. I hope your Friday is really good to you, wherever you are in the world (but not so “Good,” that they send out some Romans to nail you to a cross). Thanks for visiting. Oddly enough, last night, I was back to listening to IZ because his voice makes me so fucking happy. Makes me forget about COVID, and family, and seemingly unrequited love, and LLCs and budgets and investors, dirty politics, and all the fucking damage people can do. So I leave you with it again, even though I only posted it here 2 days ago… Enjoy. I love you guys. See ya.

Excerpt #1: Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town

Okay, gang. Today my post is really short because it’s my day to work on Thug Luckless and I don’t want to get too distracted.

Guess what?? During the night, the hydrangea next to my kitchen porch finally bloomed!!  I took this photo just as the sun was coming up, around 6am.

It’s a gorgeous day here in Crazeysburg, but it is supposed to get really hot again, so I’ve already done the treadmill for today. And I’m planning to just sit here at my desk and work on the new novel and hope that the heat doesn’t get unbearable by midday.

As the title of this post implies, I’m going to post my first excerpt from Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town.

Even though it’s a philosophical novel, it is also going to be hardcore erotic. This excerpt is not sexually explicit, though. I just like the way it flows.

For readers new to the blog: the title character, Thug Luckless, is an abandoned sexbot, alone in the post-apocalyptic city of P-Town. (And it’s not Provincetown, Rhode Island — it’s called P-Town for a different reason.) The novel is told from Thug’s POV. His owner, Mavis, dies unexpectedly from an aneurysm while in the middle of having sex with Thug, and no one in the town knows how to turn him off. So he wanders the town; is always  “willing & able” to have sex with anyone who approaches him,  but he becomes increasingly less willing as time goes on and he gradually develops self-awareness.  However, he is still not able to stop having sex, even though he wants to, because nobody can turn him off. (The premise is Pinocchio-esque in certain ways.)

All righty. The excerpt is followed by some of my treadmill music from today!! I was listening to Nocturama (2003), by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, and the song is “Bring It On.”

Okay, gang. Enjoy your Sunday!! Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

*********************************************

Excerpt from Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town.  (Approx. 1  & 1/2 pages)

Taken from Part One: Mavis Says Goodbye
© 2020 Marilyn Jaye Lewis

In the truck, it was unnerving – packed in that crate. I couldn’t move. And it was dark. Darker than anything I could remember since getting the eyes. Plus, there was stuff all over me. Tiny little flecks of it. Even though I had the clothes on, I could still feel it.

When the lid was pried open – finally – there she was. Mavis. My angel with a crowbar. She’d come to my rescue, like I’d hoped somebody would. She was kind. She smiled a lot – starting from the very moment that she said “hello, you” and took me out of the crate.

And she was really smart. Right away, she got rid of that remote. There was none of that zapping me from across the room. Those times in the factory, during the tests – I always felt invaded.

Whenever Mavis needed me to do something specific, she came up close to me and put her hands right on me, gently feeling for the buttons. Her fingers – that was something really comforting. It felt nice when Mavis touched me.

I miss Mavis.

*     *     *

“There used to be stars up there,” Mavis said, sitting up. “Do you know what stars are?”

It was my first time having a conversation. The images came slowly. I waited for the picture to come into the front of my head – to the screen – and then I focused on it: Stars. Shining gaseous lights in the heavens. Seen as distant diamonds in a black night sky.

Although not in P-Town. You could no longer see stars in the skies of P-Town.

“Yes,” I told her, sitting up, too. “I know what stars are.”

She handed me my cigarette. Out of politeness to her, it was never lit. She had trouble with her lungs. Because of the accident.

I stuck the cigarette in the corner of my mouth. It stayed there unlit while we had our conversation.

“Before the accident at the plant,” she continued, “the sky was full of stars. I was married then. Well, I should say that my husband was still alive then. We used to come up here some nights and make love. Under the stars.”

“Make love,” I said. I waited for the image to come, and then I focused: Fucking. What she and I had just been doing. That’s all that came. “There’s some confusion,” I told her. “Make love is not coming up.”

“What we were just doing,” she explained. “Making love is what you and I were just doing.”

“Fucking,” I said. “Fucking is to make love?”

She shrugged her naked shoulders. “Yes,” she said. “With us, it is. Remember that, okay?”

“Okay.” I felt the word fucking being erased, and in its place: Make love.

“Are you cold?” she asked. “Do you want to get dressed and go back inside?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Are we cold?”

She stood up and I watched her pull her dress back on. “I think so,” she said. “Let me help you.”

Up there on the roof, Mavis dressed me. I watched her, learning her movements. Committing them to my inner screen. I watched her fingers button the front of my shirt. Then I looked into her face. She was the very same height as I was. I could see directly into her eyes. On the screen inside of my head there were flowers; fields and fields of flowers. “Pretty,” I said.

Mavis smiled. She took the cigarette out of my mouth for a moment and then kissed me.

“You’re pretty, too,” she said. “Now, let’s go back downstairs.”

“We’re cold?” I asked.

“Yes, honey.” She linked my arm with hers. “We’re cold.”

© 2020 Marilyn Jaye Lewis
Excerpt from Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town

****************************************

“Bring It On”

This garden that I built for you
That you sit in now and yearn
I will never leave it, dear
I could not bear to return
And find it all untended
With the trees all bended low
This garden is our home, dear
And I got nowhere else to go

So bring it on
Bring it on
Every little tear
Bring it on
Every useless fear
Bring it on
All your shattered dreams
And I’ll scatter them into the sea
Into the sea

The geraniums on your window sill
The carnations, dear, and the daffodil
Well, they’re ordinary flowers
But they long for the light of your touch
And of your trembling will
Ah, you’re trembling still
And I am trembling too
To be perfectly honest I don’t know
Quite what else to do

So bring it on
Bring it on
Every neglected dream
Bring it on
Every little scheme
Bring it on
Every little fear
And I’ll make them disappear

So bring it on, bring it on
Bring it on
Every little thing
Bring it on
Every tiny fear
Bring it on
Every shattered dream
And I’ll scatter them into the sea

© 2003 Nick Cave

Okay, Now We REALLY Gotta Get Organized!!

It has come to my attention that I now need to set up a weekly calendar, setting aside one specific day each week for concentrating on one specific thing. So that each week can become a little more productive.

For instance, those of you who are (extremely patiently) awaiting feedback, suggestions, opinions from me on something you’re in the process of writing, have already written, or have even already published — I am now going to set aside one day a week to focus strictly on reading other writers’ works and finally replying to them.

So if you are one of those people patiently waiting on me to get back to you, I am going to make sure I focus on it and get back to you in a meaningful way as soon as I can.

But please just make a note — if you’re a new writer, I’m happy to give suggestions or feedback , however, if you’re asking me for actual editing, I charge for that.  I am negotiable and flexible with my fees, though (i.e., a single parent who is still in college and working part-time — I will try hard to find a fee you can afford). I also am open to the idea of trading — if you’re an established writer needing an editor, and if you’re also good at editing,  I’m always happy to trade projects for “free” editing. But, you know, if I give you a 45-page chapbook to edit, it wouldn’t seem fair to give me a War & Peace-length novel to edit in return!!!

Anyway. I’m flexible!!!

So now I’m going to have set days when I’m writing, set days when I’m reading, set days when I’m brainstorming on new ideas, and set days to work on my once-again-growing Abstract Absurdity Productions “to-do” list.

I guess you can see that my work load has gotten a little out of control yet again.

All righty!!

So, this arrived yesterday!! It was waiting on my porch when I got home from my dad’s house.

SIGNED ETHAN RUSSELL PHOTOGRAPHS: THE MONOGRAPH (FINE ART BOOK ...

Ethan Russell probably took every single iconic photo of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones from my wee bonny girlhood!  And I mean every single one.

The Rolling Stones | Rolling stones keith richards, Keith richards ...
Book jacket for Ethan Russell Photographs

He also took equally iconic photos of the Who, Janis Joplin, The Doors, etc. — all photos that I also remember well from my girlhood. But those ones of the Beatles and the Stones were just a huge part of my life. And having them all collected under one cover is just kind of astounding to me, you know? He took so many of the photos that are truly ingrained forever in my brain, from a time when I loved all those musicians so much.

This was a Kickstarter campaign, and this was the second issue of the book. I don’t know if you can actually just buy the book somewhere.  But if you can, it is worth every penny.

Okay, also yesterday — I believe that I was the very last person on planet Earth to finally get the stream last night for Idiot Prayer:  Nick Cave Alone at Alexandra Palace. At least that’s how it felt!! From those hours even before dawn yesterday, people in Australia and Asia were already posting to Instagram all their many comments and photos of the concert they were already watching. And then as the day unfolded, everyone all over Europe started doing the same thing. And then — finally – at 10pm Eastern time, the concert started streaming in my kitchen, and when I posted my own post to Instagram, absolutely everyone all over the world, except me, was already sound asleep…  or so it felt!

But, wow, gang — the concert was just beautiful. 90 minutes of him alone at the piano, just singing one song after another and the time flew. He sang one brand new song (I think it’s brand new),  “Euthanasia,” that was so captivating. And I thought to myself, Wow I am going to remember every word of this! But of course, when I woke up this morning, I discovered I couldn’t even recall one word of it. But it was beautiful. I do remember that.

Nick Cave Announces Solo Piano Concert Livestream, Shares Trailer ...

Oh, here’s something amusing. If you recall, a couple months back, I posted the Einstürzende Neubauten song, “Wedding,” to the blog. It’s one of the songs off their new album, Alles in Allem.  And I commented that I thought the song was about a wedding but that, knowing Einstürzende Neubauten, it might not be about a wedding at all. And, if you watched that Q&A I posted the other day with Blixa Bargeld, you, like me, discovered that “Wedding” is actually a neighborhood in Berlin.

So there we have it!!  Indeed: not about a wedding at all.

Okay. I have a “to-do” list here that is longer than anything you can possibly imagine, gang — including a phone conference with Peitor in a couple hours for Abstract Absurdity Productions work. (We will be discussing which micro-script(s) we need to begin writing next Tuesday.)

And first, I need to write up that weekly calendar and post it to the wall!!! (Wait – no!! First, I have to go down to the kitchen and get another cup of coffee, then call my dad, then write up that calendar — then actually start working.)

So I’m gonna scoot. Have a great Friday, wherever you are in the world. On my trip down to see my dad (about a 3-hour drive each way), I listened to The Good Son, a Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds album from 1990. I usually listen to the song “Foi Na Cruz” over and over and over when I put on The Good Son CD in the kitchen, or stream it from my phone in the car. I just love the groove of that song, and once I start playing it, I can’t seem to ever move on to the rest of the CD anymore.

However, in the car, I just let the whole album play (several times) and was really astounded to rediscover what an incredible album it is. Every single song on it is a gem. (And two songs from it were huge hits: “The Ship Song,” and “The Weeping Song.”)

But when I got almost to the end, and “The Witness Song” came on, it was like turning a corner and seeing your long-lost best friend suddenly standing there!! I had totally forgotten what a killer song it is. Just fucking awesome. So on my 3-hour drive back home yesterday, I played “The Witness Song” on repeat  for the entire 3 hours. And it made the trip just fly, gang. It felt like a 20-minute drive. It really did.

So that is what I leave you with today!! Enjoy!!! (Play it loud.) Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

“The Witness Song”

Yeah, yeah
Well, well
I took a walk down to the port
Where strangers meet and do consort
All blinkered with desire
And a winter fog moved thickly on
A winter fog moved thickly on
A winter fog moved thickly on

Now, who will be the witness
When the fog’s too thick to see

And I saw a friend beside a wall
Her hands were raised in supplication
And her face I could not see at all
And I raised my hands in rage
And brought them down again
And we entered through the eastern door
And I entered through the eastern door
And she entered through the eastern door

Now, who will be the witness
When you’re all to blind to see
O yes, yes, yes

And time gets somewhat muddled here
But no matter, no matter
Here come the events all tumbling down
Now, beyond the wall was a great garden
Into which we passed
Me and my friend
And the place was all overgrown with weeds
And behold from its centre there rose a great fountain
The fountain with the healing waters
And we knelt down by the rim
And I dipped my hand in
And she dipped her hand in too
And I said “Are you healed?”
And she said “Well are you healed?”
And I said “Yes, I’m healed”
And she said “Well, yes I’m healed then too”
And I said “Babe, you are a liar”
“Babe, you are a liar”
“Babe, you are a liar, too”
Now, who will be the witness
When you’re all to healed to see

And I kissed her once, I kissed her twice
And made my way to leave her
And she raised her hand up to her face
And brought it down again
I said “That gesture, it will haunt me”
“That gesture it will haunt me”
And I left there by the eastern door
She left there by the western door

Now, who will be the witness there
When you’re blind and you can’t see
Who will be the witness there
When you’re all so clean and you cannot see
Who will be the witness there
When your friends are everywhere
Who will be the witness there
And your enemies have ceased to care

© 1990 Nick Cave