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I’m a high-voltage sharp-shooter

An urban skyline, a sex-bomb in specs,

Chavs, geeks, posh totty, music, gadgets,

Games, funny stuff; it’s been one hell of a week.

They wear a smarter class of clobber out here

On the Western Fringes near the scooter camp,

And Black Cat Club by Planet Zonk.

I nearly lost my Coco de Mer diamante nipple covers

When I was roughed up by a gang of alcohol crazed killers,

Angsty teenagers out on the town, looking for laughs,

Persecuted by a terror of empty space

I morphed into a gum-chewing femme fatale

In death metal black underwear

And let’em ‘ave it – like we were in some techno

Cyber-thriller dream sequence packed with psychic plots

Rogue computers, geezers with guns,

Fake interrogations and high-kicking show-girls

With cute glutes and kinky finger pops.

Enjoy a special moment, just a trace of lace.

Find out just how easy it is to connect

Maybe I’ll get it someday, who knows?

I seriously considered buying a brand new Maserati

Metallic dress with anti-twist aluminium frames,

But the voice was just gross.

People are far too quick to judge

These ditzy types dangerous in taxis.

Better spend time in the shadows wrapped in faded newsprint.

Sometimes you wonder just who is minding the store,

Swooning over every new customer, harbouring dark

And dirty thoughts.

Stiff and painful knees is usually the answer

But only when I laugh, obey or suffer. Try it! Love it!

Relax and enjoy a brew in souvenir mug from Planet Zonk


But on the second day I called my stupid boyfriend

And gave him the push:

Extreme facials not really my scene.

Look at those sleek, swirling lights.

Cool divas never die.

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