My Heart Has Made Its Mind Up

On Waterloo Bridge Where We Said Our Goodbyes, The Weather Conditions Bring Tears To My Eyes. I Wipe Them Away With A Black Woolly Glove And Try Not To Notice I've Fallen In Love On Waterloo Bridge I Am Trying To Think: This Is Nothing. You're High On The Charm And The Drink. But The Juke-box Inside Me Is Playing A Song That Says Something Different. And When Was It Wrong? On Waterloo Bridge With The Wind In My Hair I Am Tempted To Skip. You're A Fool. I Don't Care. The Head Does Its Best But The Heart Is The Boss- I Admit It Before I Am Halfway Across

I've Never Been More Famous Than I Was, Suddenly, In 1986.

Bloody Christmas, Here Again, Let Us Raise A Loving Cup, Peace On Earth, Goodwill To Men, And Make Them Do The Washing Up.

I Think It's A Question Which Particularly Arises Over Women Writers: Whether It's Better To Have A Happy Life Or A Good Supply Of Tragic Plots.

The Reason Modern Poetry Is Difficult Is So That The Poet's Wife Cannot Understand It.