We Know What We Are, But Know

Thus Die I, Thus, Thus, Thus. Now Am I Dead, Now Am I Fled; My Soul Is In The Sky: Tongue, Lose Thy Light; Moon Take Thy Flight. Now Die, Die, Die, Die, Die.

Mind Your Speech A Little Lest You Should Mar Your Fortunes.

The Weariest And Most Loathed Worldly Life, That Age, Ache, Penury And Imprisonment Can Lay On Nature Is A Paradise, To What We Fear Of Death.

You Dull Ass Will Not Mend His Pace With Beating.

In Black Ink My Love May Still Shine Bright.