I Am Not The One Who Loves

Ah, Grief Makes Us Precise!

I've Often Said If I Knew Where The Good Songs Came From, I'd Go There More Often.

Your Hair Upon The Pillow Like A Sleepy Golden Storm

It's True That All The Men You Knew Were Dealers Who Said They Were Through With Dealing Every Time You Gave Them Shelter. I Know That Kind Of Man It's Hard To Hold The Hand Of Anyone Who Is Reaching For The Sky Just To Surrender.

As Our Eyes Grow Accustomed To Sight They Armour Themselves Against Wonder.