Piece By Piece Living Is Hard To

You Think You're Safe. Until You See A Picture Like That. And Then You Know You'll Always Be A Slave To The Present Because The Present Is More Powerful Than The Past, No Matter How Long Ago The Present Happened.

Piece By Piece Living Is Hard To Do. It May Even Feel Like The Hardest Thing. But It Has This Going For It: You Never Need To Know What It Is You're Carrying On Your Shoulders.

Do You Think There's Such A Thing As A Ghost Who Masquerades As A Person? Do You Believe That There Are People Whose Bodies Are Still Alive Here On Earth But Whose Souls Are Already In Hell?

Writing Is A Hellish Task, Best Snuck Up On, Whacked On The Head, Robbed And Left For Dead.

She's No Lady. Her Songs Are All Unbelievably Unhappy Or Lewd. It's Called Blues. She Sings About Sore Feet, Sexual Relations, Baked Goods, Killing Your Lover, Being Broke, Men Called Daddy, Women Who Dress Like Men, Working, Praying For Rain. Jail And Trains. Whiskey And Morphine. She Tells Stories Between Verses And Everyone In The Place Shouts Out How True It All Is.