From ‘Time Out New York’ this week:
In it (the Twilight Singers) Dulli gets to fully indulge his drunken loverman persona-seriously; ladies in the first eight rows, beware.
The Dulli and I are through.
It’s the end of the love affair that never was.
I’m gonna have to find me a new plaything.
And it was all going so well too…
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