Change Often Makes Accepted Customs Into Crimes.

The Lady: A Fluty Voice, Sensible Shoes, A Melancholy Sense Of Living By Rules Few Still Remember.

Dignity Takes Alarm At The Unexpected Sound Of Laughter.

Mild Brown Eyes Beckon Me To The Past, But Memory Provides No Clue.

My Noisy Denunciation Trails Off In Doubt.

The Present Necessarily Betrays The Past.