i wonder: is your life more interesting than mine, or are you just better at noticing it? how brilliant are you really, and do i only care when i don't know what you mean? do you love me, or how often do i never answer when you ask me that? i feel the real questions that keep us up at night are baffling incongruences forgotten easily until dark falls again. it fascinates me, that magic mix of the mundane and divine, because you fascinate me. she does, too, this girl who remembers enough in the morning, or knows how to record it in song before the light burns anything in its path away. she's Dutch.i know you know, perhaps more than i do, every gash and scar and question Bettie Serveert ever committed to music. we played it past midnight past all those parties that made us feel fat in the dark and like bad kissers but invincible and immortal. we mouthed the words as we fed off of each other's fire, or cried alone silently and bit our lips to bleeding, waiting out another thousand years with indie rock and bewilderment. you remember. Carol van Dyk was so down with that shit. it was like she could make you believe you exist."I can't trust the things I see for I can only trust in me.And if the whole world should drop dead, I'll build my own inside my head."
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Co-coward from Dust Bunnies (1997)