Before You Accuse Me, Take A Look

Having Lovers And Friends Is All Good And Fine But I Don't Like Yours And You Don't Like Mine.

My Selective Memory Of What Drinking Was Like Told Me That Standing At The Bar In A Pub, On A Summer's Evening With A Long, Tall Glass Of Lager And Lime Was Heaven, And I Chose Not To Remember The Nights On Which I Had Sat With A Bottle Of Vodka, A Gram Of Coke And A Shotgun, Contemplating Suicide.

All I Am Certain Of Right Now Is That I Don't Want To Go Anywhere, And That's Not Bad For Someone Who Always Used To Run.

I Know There Will Be No More Tears In Heaven.

There's A Desire In Me To Express Something - To Match What I Hear In My Head.