It ain't Willie or Bill, baby.

[our decadency]

<center>It's not easy having yourself a good time
Greasing up those bets and betters
Watching out they don't four-letter
Fuck and kiss you both at the same time
Smells-like something I've forgotten
Curled up died and now it's rotten

I'm not a gangster tonight
Don't want to be a bad guy
I'm just a loner baby
And now you're gotten in my way

I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

It's a bitch convincing people to like you
If I stop now call me a quitter
If lies were cats you'd be a litter
Pleasing everyone isn't like you
Dancing jigs until I'm crippled
Slug ten drinks I won't get pickled

I've got to hand it to you
You've played by all the same rules
It takes the truth to fool me
And now you've made me angry

I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

Oh I could throw you in the lake
Or feed you poisoned birthday cake
I wont deny I'm gonna miss you when you're gone
Oh I could bury you alive
But you might crawl out with a knife
And kill me when I'm sleeping
That's why

I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

Will Somer.
30. Generally unpleasant. Gangster, bookie, drug dealer. Cocaine addict. Alcoholic.

Professional bastard.

</center>

[our decadency]

"What's your problem, mate?" Charley was the unofficial bouncer at McCullough's Pub, which Will Somer often frequented in good spirits, but today he looked a little worse for wear.

Charley clapped a large hand on Will's shoulder and was met with a pair of eyes that probably told some sort of story that he couldn't quite work out.

"Ah, she left me." Will's old cockney accent fit him, fit his sense of style and way of life, but it was becoming less and less pronounced the longer he lived in Boston.

"Who?" He never talked about a girl before, never really talked about any relationship other than the one between himself and his car. When Will didn't answer, Charley plopped onto a stool beside him and frowned. "Well, 'm right sorry fer ya, mate." He was a big Aussie, long from home and missing it for only a moment every day.

Will was cradling his forehead between the heels of his palms, leaning over his beer. "Naw, it was comin'. She figured it out about me, I guess, I jus' hope she don't go an' open her big trap, yanno? It could undo everythin'." His shoulders told of a heavy sigh before his back straightened and he glanced over at Charley. "I mean, she actually knows wha' we do fer a livin' yanno?"