Michalina Piotrowska

“To have just been born
for beauty & see sadness
What is this frail sickness?”
― Jim Morrison, Wilderness: The Lost Writings, Vol. 1

“Coney Island Baby"

You know, man, when I was a young man in high school
You believe in or not, that I wanted to play football for the coach
All those older guys, they said he was mean and cruel
But you know, I wanted to play football, for the coach
They said I was to little too light weight to play line-back
So I say I'm playing right-in
Wanted to play football for the coach
Cause, you know some day, man, you gotta stand up straight
Unless you're gonna fall
Then you're gonna die
And the straightest dude I ever knew
Was standing right for me, all the time
So I had to play football for the coach
And I wanted to play football for the coach
When you're all alone and lonely in your midnight hour
And you find that your soul, it has been up for sale

And you getting to think about, all the things you done
And you getting to hate just about everything

But remember the princess who lived on the hill
Who loved you even though she knew you was wrong
And right now she just might come shining through
and the glory of love, glory of love
Glory of love, just might come through

And all your two-bit friends have gone and ripped you off
They're talking behind your back saying, man
you are never going to be a human being
And you start thinking again
About all those things that you've done
And who it was and who it was
And all the different things you made every different scene

Ah, but remember that the city is a funny place
Something like a circus or a sewer
And just remember, different people have peculiar tastes
And the Glory of love, the glory of love
The glory of love, might see you through
Yeah, but now, now
Glory of love, the glory of love
The glory of love, might see you through
Glory of love, ah, huh, huh, the glory of love
Glory of love, glory of love
Glory of love, now, glory of love, now
Glory of love, now, now, now, glory of love
Glory of love, give it to me now, glory of love see you through
Oh, my Coney Island baby, now
(I'm a Coney Island baby, now)
I'd like to send this one out for Lou and Rachel
And the Lord appeared and he has one made of two
Coney Island baby
Man, I swear, I'd give the whole thing up for you

Lou Reed, Coney Island Baby (1975)”
― Lou Reed

“Sick Boy : It's certainly a phenomenon in all walks of life.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton : What do you mean?
Sick Boy : Well, at one time, you've got it, and then you lose it, and it's gone forever. All walks of life: George Best, for example. Had it, lost it. Or David Bowie, or Lou Reed...
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton : Some of his solo stuff's not bad.
Sick Boy : No, it's not bad, but it's not great either. And in your heart you kind of know that although it sounds all right, it's actually just shite.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton : So who else?
Sick Boy : Charlie Nicholas, David Niven, Malcolm McLaren, Elvis Presley...
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton : OK, OK, so what's the point you're trying to make?
Sick Boy : All I'm trying to do is help you understand that The Name of The Rose is merely a blip on an otherwise uninterrupted downward trajectory.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton : What about The Untouchables?
Sick Boy : I don't rate that at all.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton : Despite the Academy Award?
Sick Boy : That means fuck all. Its a sympathy vote.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton : Right. So we all get old and then we can't hack it anymore. Is that it?
Sick Boy : Yeah.
Mark "Rent-boy" Renton : That's your theory?
Sick Boy : Yeah. Beautifully fucking illustrated.”
― John Hodge, Trainspotting: A Screenplay

“glam rock and progressive pop, preferably British and often of the androgynous variety: David Bowie, Sparks, Mott the Hoople, Steve Harley, Marc Bolan, Small Faces, Roxy Music, with Suede as a contemporary bookend.”
― Jo Nesbø, Police