I suppose I could write about the new Neptune fund. It's supposed to be a European long/short sector fund. Whatever. / No, no, no ...
'What are you going to write about, Mikey?' I don't know, Voice. It's nearly Christmas. I'll be working on No. 80 after lunch. Next week, I'll make a start on No. 82. But there's no news, man. 'No news is good news, man.' You reckon? 'I don't know. I had to say something.' Why? Be silent.
...
Has he gone, dear reader? 'No!'
...
Has he gone, dear reader? 'No!'
...
Never mind. / HMV is in trouble, which is bad news for the music business.
I'm reading about Dylan at the moment, Revolution In The Air. He had a great eighteen months in the mid-Sixties. That's what I need. Then it won't matter what age I am.
Eight out of twenty lines! / Man, I'm only twelve lines from salvation. I honestly believe that. The two songs I've finished are fine pop songs, but this new one is going to be a total motherfucker - excuse my French. It's going to be a classic case of NO PRISONERS.
If you want to be saved, you've got to hold your nerve ...
