I ain’t interested in you. Don’t take it personal-like, I just got no interest in no one. I got my shield, all strapped up down me arm and like I gotta buzz from the way it hurts. Here’s me, life on the edge and all that. Nah, that ain’t the all of it, I reckon it’s the weight of all that metal I need most. I needa feel kinda heavy-like. Not like my hot air balloon childhood, blown about by the winds of all those fucking people, red-faced at the bus stop – standing in puddles a’fore the mornin’ rain. My therapist tells me “James, you’re an island” but he don’t get it neither. I ain’t no island, I’m a wave, and not like those shitty little ones for sunbathers to paddle in on their shitty package holidays. But a huge fuck-off one going across the oceans, scaring the shit out of people. “Quick, back to port!” they’d yell – well yeah, that’s me. But you know, it ain’t half lonely bein’ like this. Cos the only time you’re happy, and I mean really truly fucking happy, is when you hit that beach and see what’s gonna happen next. Ain’t no respectable way to live tho, not really.