When I Think About It, If I

It Is Strange How Sad It Can Be - Sunlight In The Afternoon, Don't You Think?

She’ll Have No Lover, For I Don’t Want Her And She’ll See No Other.

Yes, I Am Sad, Sad As A Circus-lioness, Sad As An Eagle Without Wings, Sad As A Violin With Only One String And That One Broken, Sad As A Woman Who Is Growing Old. Sad, Sad, Sad.

The Woman Had A Humble, Cringing Manner. Of Course, She Had Discovered That, Having Neither Money Nor Virtue, She Had Better Be Humble If She Knew What Was Good For Her.

What You Take To Be Hyprocrisy Is Sometimes A Certain Caution, Sometimes Genuine, Though Ponderous, Childish, Sometimes A Mixture Of Both.