They Hit You At School, They Hate

It Matters Not Who You Love, Where You Love, Why You Love, When You Love Or How You Love, It Matters Only That You Love

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.

And So This Is Christmas...what Have You Done?

I've Been Reading [nikita] Khrushchev Remembers. I Know He's A Bit Of A Lad Himself - But He Seemed To Think That Making A Religion Out Of An Individual Was Bad; That Doesn't Seem To Be Part Of The Basic Communist Idea. Still People Are People, That's The Difficulty.

The Postman Wants An Autograph. The Cab Driver Wants A Picture. The Waitress Wants A Handshake. Everyone Wants A Piece Of You.