I think Amsterdam's a boring city, but lying in bed watching my butler neatly fold my clothes for next morning before he packed away the cleaning products I'd just used, then happily gazing at magical things happening outside the hostel's window courtesy of mushrooms not quite ready to put their feet up, lives long in the addled memory.
I think Amsterdam's a boring city, but lying in bed watching my butler neatly fold my clothes for next morning before he packed away the cleaning products I'd just used, then happily gazing at magical things happening outside the hostel's window courtesy of mushrooms not quite ready to put their feet up, lives long in the addled memory.