Foxy_Dread the pair of them are thorns in my side. I go to sleep with them in my mind, and I awake, after a fitful night's sleep dreaming about them, thinking about them. I hear the voices in the wind and see their faces in the faces of passing strangers. As i read the Guardian in a morning i find that the first letter of paragraphs of articles spell out their names. I turn the radio on and hear Allen's songs. I come here, on OMJ and can't find refuge or release from their torment.
