Someone slipped me a mickey at the Robey. Kev hard driving home on a pill, shooting clean down the chrome tunnel. Talking to me through tin can ear horns, his car sick road bitch, pulling colours off the street lamps. ~ On my own; should I walk home through dark car parks? If I drove in I'd still have to walk out. ~ Someone called to sell me car insurance; 'you never fancied driving?' 'No.'