August Rain: The Best Of The Summer

A Ring Of Gold With The Sun In It? Lies. Lies And A Grief.

The Silence Between Us Was So Profound I Thought Part Of It Must Be My Fault.

What I Want Back Is What I Was Before The Bed, Before The Knife, Before The Brooch-pin And The Salve Fixed Me In This Parenthesis; Horses Fluent In The Wind, A Place, A Time Gone Out Of Mind.

I Think I Made You Up Inside My Head.

What I Fear Most, I Think, Is The Death Of The Imagination.