Safe Despair It Is That Raves- Agony

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul - And Sings The Tunes Without The Words - And Never Stops At All.

Hold Dear To Your Parents For It Is A Scary And Confusing World Without Them.

The Things That Never Can Come Back, Are Several- Childhood-some Forms Of Hope-the Dead- Though Joys-like Men-may Sometimes Make A Journey- And Still Abide-.

Inebriate Of Air Am I, And Debauchee Of Dew, Reeling, Through Endless Summer Days, From Inns Of Molten Blue.

When He Tells Us About His Father, We Distrust Him. When He Shows Us His Home, We Turn Away, But When He Confides To Us That He Is Acquainted With Grief, We Listen, For That Also Is An Acquaintance Of Our Own.