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Text: Dan Le Sac. Cupid On Dylan.

Hi, my name is Cupid and I'm an alcoholic.
Yes I am \"the Cupid,\" yes this is my true form: I am tall, dark and handsome... ish. You look surprised? Were you expecting something different, maybe a little bit more rosy-cheeked?
Yeah. I bet you think McDonald's is run by a clown, too.

I drink! I drink often. Whiskey is my poison. It's a work/stress thing.
Work... has been my one true obsession ever since I got this bow and unlimited arrows and got told to \"turn the world to love,\" and I thought \"PSSHH! Be done in a week! Fo sho!\"
That was aeons ago.

Still, I started well enough, 'till the Cain and Abel incident like a fist to the chin. You're bound to get one someday. Kinda lost the plot for a while, but I was certain as Zeus' lightnin' I could win it like Mercury's helmet and I'll still come out a Greek hero!
...but Maker got disgusted, thought I was way in over my head. Pressed reset, reverted the world back to zero sparing only two-by-two on an ark.
I saw the first sunrise on a blue Earth so quiet you could hear my heart crack.

That day my good friend Venus quit, moved planet. These days she's so bitter the skies in her eyes are sulphuric and I... stayed.
I believed.
I must have been smoking something, 'cos I still had faith in y'all! and I know love is hard to pull off! but I had plans, I had plans, I had plans, I had plans, I had plans so perfect even the Devil couldn't laugh.
But then the brother always does, equally to us, to which and now I'm here. Drinking.

Now I just... pull, aim and... shoot.
Mortals blame me for everything: from cold, lonely nights to empty sunriseses. Why'd they paint me as a baby? Their insecurity is my youth and their wrong-footedness is my blindfold.
I have never been blind, far from it.
I take great care, great care, in picking my targets to match.
I pull, I aim, I shoot.
I pull, I aim, I shoot, and for my best efforts I see my results sullied by the silliest of reasons;

\"She's perfect for you,\"
\"...But she's black;\"

\"He seems like your type,\"
\"Too short;\"

\"She will love you forever,\"
\"She's moslem;\"

\"He will treat you like gold,\"
\"Republican.\"

All I see is human! No more. No less.

And mortals use me as the springboard to dive into puddles searching for some depth of happiness. Power. Obsession. A late-night one-night-stand.
My mandate is the most corrupted word in the dictionary, trust me.
And I've got more failures than successes, more zeroes than plusses. A union could take a thousand years and all it takes is one radio broadcast and Rwanda is a worldwide celebrity.

And I know I have my trophies, but it's like being proud of a little square inch of detail when the rest of the painting's messed up, washed up, bigger pictures speaking the word \"SUCKS.\"
All I want is for more mortals to love more mortals than less. You know, like, enduring love. Like her hand holds his hand crossing the road in their twilight years. All consuming love. Like every letter of every word in every letter in a long distance thing. Love that works like a debt write-off. Like it ain't fair, it ain't right to your bank balance but your well-being and happiness is paramount so fuck it, let's share-
But that's shit.
Isn't realistic on a global scale, now is it?

The most I could hope for is peace... that without love is a prison. My career has become a job, it feels like I'm not shooting for love anymore.
I pull, I aim, divorce.
I pull, I aim, deceit.
I pull, I aim... pain.

So no... I wasn't done in a week.

I almost quit once...
I put all myself into a set-up, gave a woman a guaranteed sixty years of happiness on a plate and the most she could say about her future potential partner was, \"yeah whatever, she's screwable.\"
And that was it.
I'd had it.
Packed up, moved up, past the pearly gates to the Face of the Maker. I said, \"I QUIT!\"

And he said,

\"MOTHERFUCKER.
\"I didn't give you immortality just so you can retire, this shit here is for life,\" and I said,

\"But Sir... I failed... I keep failing,\" and he said,

\"This ain't no way to win, bitch! We should rejoice for every single one gained, bitch!\" and I said,

\"But Sir... they're not followin' my instructions,\" and he said,

\"These people aren't meant to. They got roles to play in this grand play of life too, your objective won't be worth nil if they're just 'baah baah' sheep to your will. You don't want sheep, I don't want sheep. That's why I made Satan! Love's not worth nurturing if it's never scaled any obstructions,\" and I said,

\"But Sir... these people don't wanna love... they wanna lie, they wanna cheat, they wanna fuck, they wanna kill, they wanna hate, they wanna hate, they wanna hate, they wanna hate,\" and he said,

\"Some. Of. Them. Wanna love. And when their world goes nuclear winter you have to be the fire in their sleep! You are LOVE, Cupid! You're a rainbow in a field of napalm, a commodity of smiles in a stock market full of frowns, a pink ball on a snooker board full of black balls. Do not stop dreaming just because you're having nightmares, mate! You win some, lose some. Try again, son.
\"You pull, you aim, you miss.
\"You pull, you aim, you hit
\"You pull, you aim, you pull, you aim, you pull, you pull, you pull-
\"Do you want a diagram or would you like a map?
\"Get back to work before I strike you down.\"

So yeah... I guess the Maker's a bit upset with me.
Maybe he's right... being \"Supreme Being\" and all, maybe... I still have faith.
I'm guessing I still do.
I still believe in you.

I just need whiskey these days that's all

(Thanks to Michael Staines for these lyrics)