The fire engine is finally vanishing within the pages of a picture book and what is left of a lefthanded dream requires the possibilities or the routine of grave digging and nobody doubts that something stunning at least would be helpful out of some deep joker sky like the sound of hard hitting rain on black roads and everything would be alright again like fucking Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich in an old noise-making jukebox. Bend it, fix it, love it. A sirtaki might work taming the demons.