The Torment

These days, every place i play, it rains heavily, yielding a negligible and/or indifferent audience, making me feel a damned fool and sending me into a wretched state of sullenness.

To the higher power, whatever incarnation you actually take on: Why me? Have I slayed men? Have i seduced virgins? Have i wrecked homes? Do i wax lyrical about my own genius and believe every word?

None of those things, do i do. And yet, i understand the incredible fortuitous position i find myself in, a young British male with myopia being my only significant physical defect, how can i possibly raise my skinny fists to the sky and beg of you...more fortune?!