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About Manchester

We get to this shady motel, smells like piss and regret. She’s strippin, I’m growlin—Rarrgh!—thinkin, “This is my fate, ain’t it?” Fun fact: oldest profession, right? Back in Rome, they had brothels with menus—blows ya mind. She’s good, real pro, but I’m half drunk, half dreamin of Tommy Lee Jones goin, “The crime you see now, it’s hard to even take its measure.” Makes me laugh mid-thrust—awkward as fuck.

As the night rolls in, I’m wanderin’ back through the streets. I pass by the Greyfriars Tower. It’s all lit up, lookin’ majestic. I can’t help but think about how many stories those walls could tell.

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