Maybe Self-improvement Isn't The Answer, Maybe Self-destruction

Today Is The Sort Of Day Where The Sun Only Comes Up To Humiliate You.

Just Let Your Hand Drop; And Let Fate Decide For You.

You'll Need To Suffer To Make Any Real Art.

Really, Just Looking Around, You Feel A Twinge Of Pity For The Poor Souls Who Succeeded In Getting Past The Pearly Gates. One Can't Help But Picture The Lackluster Vip Lounge In Heaven, A Kind Of Nonalcoholic Ice-cream Social Starring Harriet Beecher Stowe And Mahatma Gandhi. Hardly Anyone's Idea Of A "with-it" Social Register.

You're Always Haunted By The Idea You're Wasting Your Life.