Soot On the Radio

"I must have hit something,
by the look of the volume of oil pouring out of my
shuttlecraft, the radiator was smashed off it's welds,
crudely placed on the fan; which was not turning.
It had been a poor day. A day to forget,
and now it would accidentally last a bit longer,
and that I escaped the retarded outskirts of New Kalamazoo;
and had found myself drunk and stranded,
already pissed about the disastrous results my relations
had turned. Standing in a meteor storm at three a.
m. Next to my fucked shuttle.
Time to get walking and follow the distant sound of
late night FM radio to the population quads."
I) Mate Housing, Lovell Street; New K-Zoo
Now if I stay a bit too long. To find myself all too lost.
Come push me down. Come beat me down. I deserve
all that came. A sad walk fifteen miles into town.
So if I play with a tomb. I cannot think.
I cannot lose. Come hold me down.
Come crush me down. I reserve a chance to learn.
I gave up hope for my world.
There's nothing to give in, you're my plastic girl.
So if I moan from the looks.
Afraid to move. Afraid to stay.
Come give me a drink. I need a drink.
I'll light a smoke on my way. There's no hope for my world.