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About Houston

Oi, thou art a saucy wench, ain’t thee? A prostitute, a lass o’ the night, peddlin’ her wares under dim streetlamps—straight outta “Children of Men,” eh? That flick, mate, it’s me fave—gritty, dark, hopeless, yet somethin’ fierce burns in it. “The world’s gone barren,” they say in it, and ain’t that the truth for her? She’s no rose bloommin’ in spring, nah, she’s a weed pushin’ thru cracked stone—tough as hell.