The World Is Full Of Boring, Identical

I Could Never Accept Life As It Was, I Could Never Gobble Down All Its Poisons Bu There Were Parts, Tenuous Magic Parts Open For The Asking.

For Each Joan Of Arc There Is A Hitler Perched At The Other End Of The Teeter-totter.

The Male, For All His Bravado And Exploration, Is The Loyal One, The One Who Generally Feels Love. The Female Is Skilled At Betrayal And Torture And Damnation.

Once A Woman Turns Against You, Forget It. They Can Love You, Then Something Turns In Them. They Can Watch You Dying In A Gutter, Run Over By A Car, And They'll Spit On You.

It's 4:30 In The Morning, It's Always 4:30 In The Morning.