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Unpublished.
Performed, 2004.

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It was the type of country you expect dueling banjoes in the background.
The type of place where cousins marryin' is considered posh.
The smell of stale tobacco mixed with spilt beer,
Many a bladder had had its washout in the same room.
The people gathered at the bar wore Nike
It hid the scars on shoulders where heads used to sit
Slow drawls indicated minds as slower than an Anne Rice novel
I had hit rock bottom, I had sunk real low
Sure, I looked good in my black velvet and lace
And the runic sigils down my cheek had taken hours to do
But that didn't matter to these people
They looked like cattle figured in their ancestry
Heads on necks as thick as tree trunks swiveled
Eyes as dull as necromancy all took account
"Where the fuck have you been, ya dumb cunt?"
I was home, never again to stray,
Back in Dandenong, home of the lowered car.