Dear Bono your bug eyed glasses bug me
you seemed to be a champion of the Irish canvass
Sans pototoes and clovers and screaming catastrophe
When you were doing music so were inxs and remants of any band from the 70s
At least Yoko screamed animalality in tunnels but john climbed her ladder to see her cunt
A small man with hair atitude and a mean finger on his guitasr
Too young and searching for nirvana in the orient rather than feeling up a marharisma
Oh but the glasses were significant - furnished by the oriental abililty to blend rather than resist
There are too many of them ( ) !
There are too many of us - Malthaus may be onto something
His weapons were not smallpox nor willing death but the agony of being unimportant
Bless him
And Bono preaches 'one world' behind the stampeed of his undersized shoes
He does nought 'cept ask us to give a hanshake and exchange bodily fluids to be one
...and his legacy is rebellion - success - sell out - insignificance - and slowly fade camera to scene
He is merely a puppet of the media and they have cut the strings
Could Bobby Geldoff possibly be the master here
(is this a connect with Paula Yates and Michael hanging from a door - an unhinged shared fuck).
.....................** to be continued**
! please observe that every word opinion judgement is carefully deliberatly appropiately scarolous.