Late nights, fine art, the taste of fine wine and cheese, pretty banker girls. The darkness but lights across the water, dog shit, rattling cans and the abrasive smell of propellant. I came to prefer the latter. Unique style, poetry with a picture, they like it. I thought they were being nice, i came to understand they weren't. I may not be very good but my friends are and i came to them as a pupil so that counts for a lot more to me.