I Run After Her, Not Really Giving

On The Bowery, In The Ornate Carcass Of A Formerly Grand Vaudeville Theater, A Dance Marathon Limps Along. The Contestants, Young Girls And Their Fellas, Hold One Another Up, Determined To Make Their Mark, To Bite Back At The Dreams Sold To Them In Newspaper Advertisements And On The Radio. They Have Sores On Their Feet But Stars In Their Eyes.

Im A Techno Moron. I Need Help Just To Plug In My Video Camera.

That's What Living In Their World Is-a Big Lie. An Illusion Where Everyone Looks The Other Way And Pretends That Nothing Unpleasant Exists At All, No Goblins Of The Dark, No Ghosts Of The Soul.

You Couldn't Be Perfect Enough To Keep The World From Betraying You.

People Have A Habit Of Inventing Fictions They Will Believe Wholeheartedly In Order To Ignore The Truth They Cannot Accept.