It Was Built Against The Will Of

It Is Tedious To Tell Again Tales Already Plainly Told.

That Is The Gods' Work, Spinning Threads Of Death Through The Lives Of Mortal Men, An All To Make A Song For Those To Come.

Be Still My Heart; Thou Hast Known Worse Than This.

She Threw Into The Wine Which They Were Drinking A Drug Which Takes Away Grief And Passion And Brings Forgetfulness Of All Ills

Now Son, You Don’t Want To Drink Beer. That’s For Daddies, And Kids With Fake Ids.