Down The Road Someone Is Practicing Scales,

Let Them Not Make Me A Stone And Let Them Not Spill Me, Otherwise Kill Me.

I Am Not Yet Born; O Fill Me With Strength Against Those Who Would Freeze My Humanity, Would Dragoon Me Into A Lethal Automaton Would Make Me A Cog In A Machine, A Thing With One Face, A Thing

Today I Am So At Home In Dublin, More Than In Any Other City, That I Feel It Has Always Been Familiar To Me. But, As With Belfast It Took Me Years To Penetrate Its Outer Ugliness And Dourness, So With Dublin It Took Me Years To See Through Its Soft Charm To Its Bitter Prickly Kernel - Which I Quite Like Too.

I Am Not Yet Born; O Fill Me With Strength Against Those Who Would Freeze My Humanity.

I Am Not Yet Born; Forgive Me For The Sins That In Me The World Shall Commit, My Words When They Speak Me, My Thoughts When They Think Me, My Treason Engendered By Traitors Beyound Me, My Life When They Murder By Means Of My Hands, My Death When They Live Me.