Clean - text
It takes Paul Owen five minutes to die, another thirty to stop bleeding;
I know, because I time it.
Afterwards, still wearing the bloodied raincoat,
I take a cab to Paul's apartment on the Upper East Side.
I let myself in with his keys.
A plan is taking shape in the folds of my brain,
but where should I send Paul on a business trip?
Rome, Amsterdam, Phoenix...
PAUL OWEN AND PATRICK BATEMAN: London!
I'll send the bastard to England!
His answering machine!
PAUL OWEN: My answering machine!
PATRICK BATEMAN (impersonating PAUL OWEN): "Hi! This is Paul Owen!"
PAUL OWEN (as HIMSELF): Hi! This is Paul Owen!
PATRICK BATEMAN (impersonating PAUL OWEN):
"I'm sorry I'm not here to take your call,
but I'm in London for the next two weeks,
taking the Fisher account to the next level.
If this is something business related,
you can reach me at the office at..."
We are sinners.
We are winners.
We are faceless.
We fixed the races.
And took our places.
But I'm clean! I've become clean!
The things I've seen, and still I'm clean.
Rise and shine, don't waste time.
Head to the terminals, head to the mines.
Present yourself as someone who knows in which direction capital flows.
Make it happen, make it rain, with conjuring and leisure domain.
Flash a smile, bear your teeth, they'll never guess what's underneath...
- Opening (Morning Routine)
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- Oh Sri Lanka
- True Faith
- Killing Time
- In the Air Tonight
- If We Get Married
- Not a Common Man
- Misletoe Alert
- Hip To Be Square
- Killing Spree
- A Nice Thought
- At The End Of An Island
- I Am Back
- Don't You Want Me?
- This Is Not an Exit
- Selling Out
- Killing Time 2.0