Music to listen: Poses, by Rufus Wainwright

The yellow walls are lined with portraits

And Ive got my new red fetching leather jacket All these poses such beautiful poses Makes any boy feel like picking up roses Theres never been such grave a matter As comparing our new brand name black sunglasses All these poses such beautiful poses Makes any boy feel as pretty as princes The green autumnal parks conducting All the city streets a wondrous chorus singing All these poses oh how can you blame me Life is a game and true love is a trophy And you said Watch my head about it Baby you said watch my head about it My head about it Oh no oh no oh no Oh no oh no no kidding Reclined amongst these packs of reasons For to smokes the days away into the evenings All these poses of classical torture Ruined my mind like a snake in the orchard I did go from wanting to be someone now Im drunk and wearing flip-flops on fifth avenue Once youve fallen from classical virtue Wont have a soul for to wake up and hold you In the green autumnal parks conducting All the city streets a wondrous chorus Singing all these poses now no longer boyish Made me a man ah but who cares what that it And you said watch my head about it Baby you said watch my head about it My head about it Oh no oh no oh no Oh no oh no well you said Watch my head about it Baby you said watch my head about it My head about it Oh no oh no oh no Oh no oh no no kidding