There Is Moss On The Walls And

Too Often, The Only Escape Is Sleep

Each Man's Hell Is In A Different Place: Mine Is Just Up And Behind My Ruined Face.

Love Dries Up, I Thought As I Walked Back To The Bathroom, Even Faster Than Sperm.

Whiskey Makes The Heart Beat Faster But It Sure Doesn't Help The Mind And Isn't It Funny How You Can Ache Just From The Deadly Drone Of Existence?

I Got Up And Walked Back To My Roominghouse. The Moonlight Was Bright. My Footsteps Echoed In The Empty Street And It Sounded As If Somebody Was Following Me, I Looked Around. I Was Mistaken. I Was Quite Alone.