He'd Told Her It Was Just A

Unhappiness Really Meant Something Back Then. Now It's Just A Drag, Like A Cold Or Having No Money.

Even Bad Times Have Good Things In Them To Make You Feel Alive.

And Mostly All I Have To Say About These Songs Is That I Love Them, And Want To Sing Along To Them, And Force Other People To Listen To Them, And Get Cross When These Other People Don't Like Them As Much As I Do.

Where's The Superficial? I Was, And Therefore Am, Dim, Gloomy, A Drag, Unfashionable, Unfanciable, And Awkward. This Doesn't Seem Like Superficial To Me. These Aren't Flesh Wounds. These Are Life-threatening Thrusts Into The Internal Organs.

I Would Like My Personal Reading Map To Resemble A Map Of The British Empire Circa 1900.