London Is Like A Cold Dark Dream

London Is Like A Cold Dark Dream Sometimes.

I Have Arranged My Little Life.

You Imagine The Carefully Pruned, Shaped Thing That Is Presented To You Is Truth. That Is Just What It Isn't. The Truth Is Improbable, The Truth Is Fantastic; It's In What You Think Is A Distorting Mirror That You See The Truth.

If She Says Goodbye Perhaps Adieu. Adieu - Like Those Old Time Songs She Sang. Always Adieu (and All Songs Say It). If She Too Says It, Or Weeps, I'll Take Her In My Arms, My Lunatic. She's Mad But Mine, Mine. What Will I Care For Gods Or Devils Or For Fate Itself. If She Smiles Or Weeps Or Both. For Me.

I Am Empty Of Everything. I Am Empty Of Everything But The Thin, Frail Ghosts In My Room.