The Song
When he called this time I answered it. I said what’s the big deal with getting his heavies on me. He says, ‘What heavies?’ I say the heavies who followed me, the heavies who pushed me up against a wall and slapped me around, those fuckin’ heavies. He says he don’t know nothing about no fuckin’ heavies. I said so why are you phoning all the fuckin’ time, then, what the fuck are you following me for all the time, then? He says he’s worried about me. He says he and ‘his friend’ are concerned that I might be getting myself into some big fuckin’ shit. I say, what’s it got to do with him? He says that’s what we got to talk about.
Fuck the bastard! Why should I trust him?
That song’s been getting on my tits. The song that’s playing in the background on the cassette on the answer machine with the Laughing Man. I’ve played it back so many time I know it by heart now. There’s something about it that gets under your skin, somehow. I wish I knew what it meant. It’s driving me up the fucking wall.
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