They Hit You At School, They Hate

I Didn't Really Know That Much About The Maoists, But I Just Knew That They Seemed To Be So Few And Yet They Painted Themselves Green And Stood In Front Of The Police Waiting To Get Picked Off.

I'd Always Felt Repressed. We Were All So Pressurised That There Was Hardly Any Chance Of Expressing Ourselves, Especially Working At That Rate, Touring Continually And Always Kept In A Cocoon Of Myths And Dreams.

I Could Still Be Forgotten When I'm Dead. I Don't Really Care What Happens When I'm Dead.

All You Need Is Love.

When You Cross The Street, Take My Hand