About Midnight - Johnny Pulp and the Lemonheads
I'd hold your face and watch it like a b.mp3
I watch the gulls howling through the cl (2).mp3
let me tell you I never tell the truth w (1).mp3
o this weeping is all in your head grow .mp3
I watch the gulls howling through the cl.mp3
I'd hold your face and watch it like a b (1).mp3
what is meaner than death and what consu.mp3
I watch the gulls howling through the cl (1).mp3
let me tell you I never tell the truth w (2).mp3
what is meaner than death (1).mp3
I watch the gulls howling through the cl (3).mp3
Sleeve Notes
intimacy She is moving increasingly closer to my body In complete secrecy. She gives herself to everyone. She is always in love with them, clings to them and they Return her love. I am constantly constricted, day and night. Within her law and an improper sense of human relations She appears in my field of vision as if my presence is required. I trust an adjustment of the whole concern will be made So as to preclude the necessity of my proceeding to extremes. I am again a great invalid having been confined to my room this fortnight past on account of inflammation of the Chest and Windpipe. The toothache has at last subsided. Wakefulness seems linked to an obscure punitive aspect. I have no occasion to be whitewashed so to speak. Old Mallock at Pegu went away on sick leave to England With claims of 3000 rupees against him from the company & has just escaped court-martial. One Burmese girl No sooner got a new jacket from me than off she went to see her friends And never came back. Mallock’s lately in Calcutta sick or shamming. Lots of alligators in the river and a boar hunt in the creek As an unfortunate wild hog had got carried away by the tide & swam down opposite the village. The villagers bring in venison sometimes, deer as large as cows, of a mouse colour. I ate eggs the other day of the white heron. The shell was light blue and the white when cooked just like jelly. I’ve got a fowl house & a goat and a trump of a kid Fowls, ducks and little pigs soon. I ought to write her but it really can’t be done now. I am suspicious that she holds me in contempt somehow Or else has revised me as a figure of so little concern That mine will be a death on paper only.