I’m a high-voltage sharp-shooter
An urban skyline, a sex-bomb in specs,
Chavs, geeks, posh totty, music, gadgets,
Games, funny stuff; it’s been one hell of a week.
They wear a smarter class of clobber out here
On the Western Fringes near the scooter camp,
And Black Cat Club by Planet Zonk.
I nearly lost my Coco de Mer diamante nipple covers
When I was roughed up by a gang of alcohol crazed killers,
Angsty teenagers out on the town, looking for laughs,
Persecuted by a terror of empty space
I morphed into a gum-chewing femme fatale
In death metal black underwear
And let’em ‘ave it – like we were in some techno
Cyber-thriller dream sequence packed with psychic plots
Rogue computers, geezers with guns,
Fake interrogations and high-kicking show-girls
With cute glutes and kinky finger pops.
Enjoy a special moment, just a trace of lace.
Find out just how easy it is to connect
Maybe I’ll get it someday, who knows?
I seriously considered buying a brand new Maserati
Metallic dress with anti-twist aluminium frames,
But the voice was just gross.
People are far too quick to judge
These ditzy types dangerous in taxis.
Better spend time in the shadows wrapped in faded newsprint.
Sometimes you wonder just who is minding the store,
Swooning over every new customer, harbouring dark
And dirty thoughts.
Stiff and painful knees is usually the answer
But only when I laugh, obey or suffer. Try it! Love it!
Relax and enjoy a brew in souvenir mug from Planet Zonk
But on the second day I called my stupid boyfriend
And gave him the push:
Extreme facials not really my scene.
Look at those sleek, swirling lights.
Cool divas never die.
Illustration Nick Victor