In Times Of Joy, All Of Us

We Are Lived By Powers We Pretend To Understand.

A Small Grove Massacred To The Last Ash, An Oak With Heart-rot, Give Away The Show: This Great Society Is Going To Smash; They Cannot Fool Us With How Fast They Go, How Much They Cost Each Other And The Gods. A Culture Is No Better Than Its Woods.

Dance Till The Stars Come Down From The Rafters Dance, Dance, Dance 'till You Drop.

Over The Tea-cups And In The Square The Tongue Has Its Desire; Still Waters Run Deep, My Dear, There's Never Smoke Without Fire.

We Are All Here On Earth To Help Others.