re: Post a single lyric you love on its own

He was left alone: there was no one there, not even a woman, just the fireplace and his ever swelling chins. As the brandy began taking lethal effect, Featherstonehaugh (or was it Butterworth? Or was it the other guy whose name I can't remember?) found himself slowly turning into some kind of helpless, diseased houseplant. As he watched his future and his past gradually become interchangeable like a highway surrounding a drunken man that begins to spin, he looked up above him. Even the angels were asleep. It was one of those nights.

Ahhh
October


Robyn Hitchcock