You Think You're Safe. Until You See

Lies Like That Are Not A Sin, They Are A Sacrifice.

Depression Is Anger Slowed Down; Panic Is Grief Speeded Up.

Memory Plays Tricks. Memory Is Another Word For Story, And Nothing Is More Unreliable.

Hope Is A Gift. You Can't Choose To Have It. To Believe And Yet To Have No Hope Is To Thirst Beside A Fountain.

She's No Lady. Her Songs Are All Unbelievably Unhappy Or Lewd. It's Called Blues. She Sings About Sore Feet, Sexual Relations, Baked Goods, Killing Your Lover, Being Broke, Men Called Daddy, Women Who Dress Like Men, Working, Praying For Rain. Jail And Trains. Whiskey And Morphine. She Tells Stories Between Verses And Everyone In The Place Shouts Out How True It All Is.