Don’t Drink Poison-Le Tigre
“This Is Hardcore”
You are hardcore, you make me hard.
You name the drama and I’ll play the part.
It seems I saw you in some teenage wet dream.
I like your get up if you know what I mean.
I want it bad. I want it now.
Oh can’t you see I’m ready now.
I’ve seen all the pictures,
I’ve studied them forever.
I wanna make a movie so let’s star in it
together.
Don’t make a move ‘til I say, “Action.”
Oh, here comes the Hardcore life.
Put your money where your mouth is tonight.
Leave your make-up on & I’ll leave on the light.
Come over here babe & talk in the mic. Oh yeah I hear you now.
It’s gonna be one hell of a night.
You can’t be a spectator. Oh no.
You got to take these dreams & make them whole.
Oh this is Hardcore -
there is no way back for you.
Oh this is Hardcore -
this is me on top of you &
I can’t believe that it took me this long. That it took me this long.
This is the eye of the storm.
It’s what men in stained raincoats pay for but in here it is pure.
Yeah. This is the end of the line.
I’ve seen the storyline played out so many times before.
Oh that goes in there.
Then that goes in there.
Then that goes in there.
Then that goes in there. & then it’s over. Oh, what a hell of a show
but what I want to know:
what exactly do you do for an encore? ‘Cos this is Hardcore
This is the first version of my tribute to my favorite band Pulp!
To be someone must be a wonderful thing
A famous footballer a rock singer
or a big film star, yes I think I would like that
To be rich and have lots of fans
have lots of girls to prove that I’m a man
And be No. 1 - and liked by everyone
Getting drugged up with my trendy friends
They really dig me, man, and I dig them
And the bread I spend - is like my fame - it’s quickly diminished
And there’s no more swimming in a guitar shaped pool
no more reporters at my beck and call
no more cocaine it’s only ground chalk
no more taxis now we’ll have to walk
But didn’t we have a nice time -
didn’t we have a nice time
Oh wasn’t it such a fine time
I realize I should have stuck to my guns
instead shit out to be one of the bastard sons
and lose myself - I know it was wrong - but it’s cost me a lot
And there’s no more drinking when the club shuts down,
I’m out on my arse with the rest of the clowns
It’s really frightening without a bodyguard
so I stay confined to my lonely room
TO BE SOMEONE (DIDN’T WE HAVE A NICE TIME)
Lost Generation.
I’m a part of Lost Generation
and I refuse to believe that
I can...
You’re never alone when you have chickens! This little guy loved me. His human mama was getting jealous… What can I say I have a way with cocks.
Mike Mignola tutorial, c.1997. I remember liking this so much I pasted the pages straight into my sketchbook
I can...
This kid is naming the monster he helped me design. IIRC I think he called it ‘James’ and I fake-hit him with a stick
A night in the human colonies—it was nice.