England Is Mine Page #3

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Got a light?

This is my mate, Johnny.

Are you in his band?

Nah, I can't sing.

Well, here we go.

- Maybe see you in there.

- Maybe.

What?

Steven, what are you waiting for?

Just do something, take a chance.

Even cavemen wrote their name on a wall.

How's the world going

to remember you? Write.

Sing. Just don't moan about it when

it's someone else's name they remember.

I love that record.

He writes some great lyrics, Strummer.

What do you like about them?

Strummer's lyrics, I'm interested to know.

Don't you find him rather schematic

in his self-flagellating world view?

White Riot's good song.

When you're ready, mate.

I'll make us a bread.

Stick the Clash on if you want.

It's not all of whatever you said.

My mom loves this sort of stuff.

Mine too.

You're late.

Again.

Anything you'd like to say?

Not really. No.

I don't know what you think you're doing,

but you're coasting.

You can't waltz in here

any time that suits,

pick up your pay check

and f*** off at 5:00!

It's not the way it works.

Why can't you be more like everyone else?

Right.

I want those files shifted.

And don't make me repeat any of this again.

Which files?

What?

You're not going to jump, are you?

- No, no...

- What's this?

- It's nothing.

- Doesn't look like nothing.

I'm sick of being an undiscovered genius.

Please just give it back.

What are these, poems?

No, they're not.

It is becoming more

apparent now as I get older

that everyone is an imbecile except me.

Oh, my God.

Christine...

Wait till I tell everyone.

Christine.

Under one condition.

What, can this wait?

You promised.

Yes, but...

I have absolutely nothing

to do with this creature.

Do you promise not to

think any worse of me?

- Uh, no. Hiya!

- Hiya.

Steven.

Oh, Christine, um...

Linder, this is Christine.

Christine is an esteemed cohort in

the business of petty and dignity.

Tonight, I'll see you as well?

Why not?

Looking out for you...

I wouldn't have him any other way.

What's wrong with her tits?

It's from my exhibition.

It's art, is it?

Yeah.

I'm not sure I understand it.

Well, maybe you could come along.

And Steven could explain it to you.

You know, he writes poetry.

She doesn't understand that either.

Cheeky twat.

I think I'll leave you two to...

No. You don't have to.

Come on, what do you feel like eating?

I don't care.

As long as it's poisonous.

You c*nt!

Dear lord, what happened to you?

Think I'm ready for the electric shock.

All right. One minute.

Ready?

What do you think that means?

Whatever you want it to mean.

What does that mean?

What I just said.

Come and have a look at this!

I found a picture of a cock.

As you can see, these

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