Your Hair Upon The Pillow Like A

[i Had A Sense Of Interior Panic].always. I Didn't Really Know What To Call It For A Long Time, But I Have A Friend In Greece Who Used That Word Panic A Lot, And I Found Myself Resisting It, Until I Totally Accepted That As A Precise Description Of My Interior Condition. It Was Mostly Panic From One Moment To The Next. And Nothing Much Else Was Going On.

I Have Tried In My Way To Be Free.

I Fought Against The Bottle, But I Had To Do It Drunk. Took My Diamond To The Pawn Shop, But That Don't Make It Junk.

I Wish I Could Say Everything In One Word. I Hate All The Things That Can Happen Between The Beginning Of A Sentence And The End.

A Song, You Know, You've Got A Tempo. You Know,you've Got Something That Is Moving Swiftly. You Can't Stop It, You Know? Andit's Designed To Move Swiftly From, You Know, Mouth To Mouth, Heart To Heart,where A Poem Really Speaks To Something That Has No Time And That Is - It's Acompletely Different Perception.