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When you're [b]alone[/b]
And life is making you [b]lonely[/b],
You can always go downtown
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When you've got worries,
All the [b]noise[/b] and the [b]hurry[/b]
Seems to help, I know, downtown
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Just listen to the [b]music[/b] of the traffic in the city
[b]Linger[/b] on the sidewalk where the [b]neon[/b] signs are pretty
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How can you [b]lose[/b]? The [b]lights[/b] are much [b]brighter[/b] there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares and go downtown
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Downtown, things'll be [b]great[/b] when you're
Downtown, no [b]finer[/b] place for sure,
Downtown, everything's waiting for you
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Don't [b]hang around[/b]
And let your [b]problems[/b] surround you
There are movie shows downtown
[img]http://img14.imageshack.us/img14/3605/006text003iran.png[/img]
Maybe you know
Some [b]little places[/b] to go to
Where they never [b]close[/b] downtown
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Just listen to the rhythm of a gentle bossanova
You'll be dancing with 'em too before the night is over
[b]HAPPY AGAIN[/b]
[img]http://img16.imageshack.us/img16/6109/007text003laughing.png[/img]
The lights are much [b]brighter[/b] there
You can forget all your troubles,
forget all your cares and go downtown
[img]http://img21.imageshack.us/img21/1259/008text003maybe.png[/img]
Downtown where all the [b]lights[/b] are [b]bright[/b]
Downtown, waiting for you tonight,
Downtown
[b]You're gonna be alright now[/b]
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And you may find somebody [b]kind[/b] to [b]help[/b] and [b]understand you[/b]
Someone who is [b]just like you[/b] and needs a [b]gentle hand[/b] to
Guide them along
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[font=trebuchet ms]The guy who had been hitting me was losing his touch. It was either the exhaustion or just plain boredom. I would offer him to whistle a tune, but for some reason I reckoned he would not appreciate it.
They wanted information. Who I was, what I did, where I was from, what I was doing out there and of course [b]who[/b] I was doing it [b]for[/b].
The first question were easy to answer genuinely, but naturally guys like the one with the awful sewer breath which he was projecting heavily into my face made it harder. When I told them what they asked for they would beat me until they were sure. It took some broken ribs before they would consider me hurt enough to sincerely mean my answers, which remained the same.
By the time I lost conscience, they knew about all I had to spill.
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[b]Name:[/b]
Dutch, B.
[b]Age:[/b]
46 years old
[b]Occupation:[/b]
Freelance (Photo)Journalist
[b]Short description of subject:[/b]
- dark brown hair, steadily silvering
- green eyes
- 6'2" tall
- 178 lbs
- several visible birthmarks on face
- long black worn out leather jacket
- camera bag with dim greens, blues and reds
[b]Interrogated subject's behaviour:[/b]
The subject did not need much convincing to tell us the information we required, most of the time. Sometimes the guy would act like a clown and try to be a wise guy, and constantly he was whistling or singing songs until we would remind him we did not appreciate it during our interview.
Does not seem to feel threatened much by pain, but that could easily be a façade. Sometimes his cynical side would come up to taunt us, but that was taken care of smoothly every time.
[b]Further notes:[/b]
Subject mentioned a brother, Dylan. That's all the information on relatives we got out of him.
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I knew that by the time I would wake up, the head ache would not be the result of a beautiful romance with a bottle of whisky the night before.
I sure hoped there'd be some left to convince me otherwise, though.
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