For Never, Never, Wicked Man Was Wise.

His Descent Was Like Nightfall.

The Son Of Saturn Gave The Nod With His Dark Brows. The Ambrosial Curls Upon The Sovereign One's Immortal Head Were Shaken, And With Them The Mighty Mount, Olympus Trembled.

By Jove The Stranger And The Poor Are Sent, And What To Those We Give, To Jove Is Lent.

Without Tv, It's Hard To Know When One Day Ends And Another Begins.

Why Cover The Same Ground Again? ... It Goes Against My Grain To Repeat A Tale Told Once, And Told So Clearly.