In The Garden I Will Die. In

Ditty Of First Desire In The Green Morning I Wanted To Be A Heart. A Heart. And In The Ripe Evening I Wanted To Be A Nightingale. A Nightingale. (soul, Turn Orange-colored. Soul, Turn The Color Of Love.) In The Vivid Morning I Wanted To Be Myself. A Heart. And At The Evening's End I Wanted To Be My Voice. A Nightingale. Soul, Turn Orange-colored. Soul, Turn The Color Of Love.

...i Am The Immense Shadow Of My Tears

The Only Things That The United States Has Given To The World Are Skyscrapers, Jazz, And Cocktails. That Is All. And In Cuba, In Our America, They Make Much Better Cocktails.

The Mirror Is The Mother Dew, The Book Of Desiccated Twilights, Echo Become Flesh.

What You Wouldn't Have Suspected Lives & Trembles In The Air. Those Treasures Of The Day You Keep Just Out Of Reach. These Come & Go In Truckloads But No One Stops To See Them.