It is a small world.

Twenty-five whores in the room next door. Twenty-five red bulls and I need more. I’m looking for the can in the candy store. Two thousand Monterrey four, and there are colours I ain’t seen before.
It’s a small world and it smells funny, I’d buy another if it wasn’t for the money; take back what I paid! for another motherfucker in a motorcade.
In a long black car, with the prettiest shit from Nuevo Leon, when the sirens wail and the lights flash blue my vision thing come slamming through.
It’s a small world and it smells bad I’d buy another if I had back what I paid.

Time of free love.

If you have been hiding from love I can understand where You are coming from, If you have suffered enough I can understand what You are thinking of I can see the pain that You are frightened of.
And I am only here to bring you free love let’s make it clear that this is free love no hidden catch no strings attached just free love.
I have been running like you now you understand why I am running scared I have been searching for truth and I haven’t been getting anywhere.
Hey girl You have got to take this moment then let it slip away let go of complicated feelings then there’s no price to pay just free love.

Sweet, Sour, Twisted, Renee French.

“Dark with cross-hatching and stippling, French’s feverishly detailed drawings recall the paintings of the American surrealist Ivan Albright…her stories are set in a twilight zone where the gross and the grotesque are given free reign. For once, that shopworn adjective, “surreal,” is well earned.”
- Mark Dery, World Art Magazine.
http://www.reneefrench.com