Yes, I Am Sad, Sad As A

Would You Like A Whiskey?' I Say. 'i've Got Some.' (that's Original. I Bet Nobody's Ever Thought Of That Way Of Bridging The Gap Before.)

Every Word I Say Has Chains Round Its Ankles; Every Thought I Think Is Weighted With Heavy Weights. Since I Was Born, Hasn't Every Word I've Said, Every Thought I've Thought, Everything I've Done, Been Tied Up, Weighted, Chained? And Mind You, I Know That With All This I Don't Succeed. Or I Succeed In Flashes Only Too Damned Well. ...but Think How Hard I Try And How Seldom I Dare. Think - And Have A Bit Of Pity. That Is, If You Ever Think, You Apes, Which I Doubt.

I Took The Red Dress Down And Put It Against Myself. 'does It Make Me Look Intemperate And Unchaste?' I Said.

If She Says Goodbye Perhaps Adieu. Adieu - Like Those Old Time Songs She Sang. Always Adieu (and All Songs Say It). If She Too Says It, Or Weeps, I'll Take Her In My Arms, My Lunatic. She's Mad But Mine, Mine. What Will I Care For Gods Or Devils Or For Fate Itself. If She Smiles Or Weeps Or Both. For Me.

I Sit At My Window And The Words Fly Past Me Like Birds — With God's Help I Catch Some.