on being back in the studio

standing outside room1004 with a crate of beer under your arm, stubbing a cigarette and waiting to be buzzed back downstairs to the studio, you can't help but watch three greasy pigeons picking their way through a puddle of vommit that sits at the bottom of a streaked graffiti wall across the lotts

inspired, you return to the studio downstairs to find that the two new members still haven't turned up

nor would they

you just can't get good help these days