I Fished Upstream Coming Ever Closer And

We Walked Back To Ideath, Holding Hands. Hands Are Very Nice Things, Especially After They Have Travelled Back From Making Love.

Hinged To Forgetfulness Like A Door, She Slowly Closed Out Of Sight, And She Was The Woman I Loved, But Too Many Times She Slept Like A Mechanical Deer In My Caresses, And I Ached In The Metal Silence Of Her Dreams.

It's Pretty Hard To Have Faith When Everybody Is Trying To Lock You Up.

The Bookstore Was A Parking Lot For Used Graveyards. Thousands Of Graveyards Were Parked In Rows Like Cars. Most Of The Books Were Out Of Print, And No One Wanted To Read Them Any More And The People Who Had Read The Books Had Died Or Forgotten About Them, But Through The Organic Process Of Music The Books Had Become Virgins Again.

All Girls Should Have A Poem Written For Them Even If We Have To Turn This Goddamn World Upside Down To Do It.