Always To Be Best, And Distinguished Above

For Love Deceives The Best Of Woman Kind.

The Skin Of The Coward Changes Color All The Time, He Can't Get A Grip On Himself, He Can't Sit Still, He Squats And Rocks, Shifting His Weight From Foot To Foot, His Heart Racing, Pounding Inside The Fellow's Ribs, His Teeth Chattering. He Dreads Some Grisly Death. But The Skin Of A Brave Soldier Never Blanches. He's All Control. Tense But No Great Fear.

The Bitter Dregs Of Fortune's Cup To Drain.

Whoever Among Men Who Walk The Earth Has Seen These Mysteries Is Blessed, But Whoever In Uninitiated And Has Not Received His Share Of The Rite, He Will Not Have The Same Lot As The Others, Once He Is Dead And Dwells In The Mould Where The Sun Goes Down.

First You Don't Want Me To Get The Pony, Then You Want Me To Take It Back. Make Up Your Mind!