That's a bald-faced lie! I'm trying to get over here to the other side! I'm trying to get out of here. Can't you see what's going on? Where's everybody at? Where's my family? You want to know why we're all here? It's because of the United Nations. It's because of politics. Because of the big white man. We're here because they can't let me pass. Because I have not got a passport. ## The Devil's Advocate _'Where are the people?'_ Where are the people who lived in the old neighbourhood? Where are the people who used to live on this street? Ain't you seen it? The place looks like a ghost town. All the buildings have been destroyed. The houses, the factories, everything. They don't exist. They've been blown to bits. Nothing's left standing. It's a clean sweep. That's the way it is. I mean, I seen it like this before. I been this way before. I seen this happening before. People coming into the building to pick up their things, then going out again. I can see them through the window with all their worldly possessions. Things like bedspreads, sofa cushions, picture frames and clothes, all stuff that used to be theirs. They'd have some sad story behind them. I can see this and I say to myself: there's gonna be more of this if I'm right. I'm sorry. I know you'd like to hear something different. But it's so, so sad. There's got to be a lot of people dead. It's not a ghost town for nothing. It's not like it was a war that affected them, where they didn't fight. No, I don't think this was a war. This was some kind of plague, some kind of disease. Maybe an epidemic. I was down to the hospital on Fifth Street the other day, as you know, with the doctor, and I could hear them talking. They said to him: all hell's broken loose out there. I think they're talking about this thing happening in Haiti. And I can hear the doctor say: I'm not surprised. Can you hear me? This is me, listening to them talking. Can you hear me? Yes, can you hear me? Where are the people? Where are the people who lived in the old neighbourhood? Where are the people who used to live on this street? Do you hear me? Ain't you seen it? It's all fallen apart, it's all gone to hell. All the buildings and the houses have been blown to bits. It's like a ghost town. The people don't exist. What kind of a people were they? Did they just disappear? Did they just vanish into thin air? What happened to them? Can you believe that a place could go to pieces like this? It makes no sense. How can the whole world just fall apart? Where are the people? Maybe they just left. They moved somewhere else. Maybe they just walked out of their houses and kept going. I don't know. Maybe it's true what they say. You never really know when you walk out the door what's going to happen to you. The doctor asked me if I was happy to have the operation. I said I am happy. I'm happy. I'm not scared of dying, even if it means losing an eye. What do I have to be scared of? _'Where are the people?'_ _'Where are the people?'_ ## It's a Bore _(I'm just a bore)_ It's the weather. I could have stood outside on any given day of the year, on any given hour, listening to the rain clattering down on the roof. I could have sat in the hallway on the verandah looking at the drips of rain splashing on the pavement. I could have sat on the verandah at any time listening to the rain, hearing it beat down on the pavement, listening to it drum on the roof. Rain, rain. Rain, rain. _Rain, rain_. It's the _weather_. It's not that hard to believe. I was born this way. My mother said so. 'Why did you put me in this world?' she once asked. 'I never wanted you. It was enough to have all the others.' Mother, mother, we don't see eye to eye on certain matters. I tried to explain to her that I can't help it if I was born this way. That's just the way I am. But, you know, I sometimes think that if I wasn't born this way I wouldn't have had the good fortune to meet you. Now I'm only telling the truth. And you know something else? Why do I think of that day as a day of mourning? What happened? What made me think of it? I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror. It was almost dawn. It was still dark out. I could hear the rain splashing down on the roof. _Tap, tap, tap, tap_. It was coming down so hard that I could almost feel it hitting my face. The rain poured down. It was drip, drip, drip, _drip_. It sounded like a hundred tiny taps. I stood there for what seemed like ages, just staring at the verandah floor, in the pitch dark. Suddenly, I turned round and saw myself in the mirror. And I said to myself: this man's going to die. So what happened? I woke up. I don't remember falling asleep. Can you believe it? It was so real I thought it was happening. How could it have happened so quickly? I was so frightened I couldn't remember what happened. It's like I never knew anything. What could have happened? I think there was another world, and then I forgot about it. And then I woke up again, in my bed in my room at the hotel. That's what happened. So what was it? Was it really a day of mourning? It was just a day, like any other day. I know the past and the future, the present and the past. My parents came to see me. They came to see me for a whole week. They're always trying to get me to go out with them. They think I'm just an old man. They don't believe I'm ill. The way I see it, they were trying to get me away from this hotel. They wanted to get me to their house. To get me to the house of a good family, where everything's calm and peaceful. They said they wanted me to play some card games with them. What the hell? They won't let up, you know? _'Why did you put me in this world?'_ _'Why did you put me in this world?'_ ## What A Night! _'There's no one in my room!_ ' What a night! ' _What happened to the family_? ' _You were right to leave_.' It's so cold! It's so dark! What a night! What a night! I'm a night owl. I don't like the night. All this _sh-sh-sh-sh_ , I don't like it. I hate the way people start talking late at night. I don't like it when people fall asleep, I don't like it when people nod off and close their eyes. I hate it when people sleep, especially when they do it like this. It's like they're asleep but they're wide awake at the same time. It's so strange! But, listen to this: you can't get these people out of bed, no matter what you do. They won't go to sleep. What the hell's that all about? And they don't even talk in their sleep. They snore. They're talking to each other but there's nobody there. That's why I can't stand it. It's like talking to yourself, without the people being there. How can you tell who's talking to you? It gets on my nerves. I'm a night owl. I don't like the night. All this _sh-sh-sh-sh_ , I don't like it. I hate the way people start talking late at night. I hate the way people nod off and close their eyes. I hate it when people sleep, especially when they do it like this. What the hell's going on? What are they up to? Who do they think they are, anyway? I hate it when people fall asleep, I hate it when people close their eyes. I can't stand that music. It's so low and wim