I Am So Mad With Love That

The Garden Of Love Is Green Without Limit And Yields Many Fruits Other Than Sorrow Or Joy. Love Is Beyond Either Condition: Without Spring, Without Autumn, It Is Always Fresh.

When You Lose All Sense Of Self The Bonds Of A Thousands Chains Will Vanish. Lose Yourself Completely, Return To The Root Of The Root Of Your Own Soul.

I Don't Want Learning, Or Dignity, Or Respectability. I Want This Music, And This Dawn, And The Warmth Of Your Cheek Against Mine.

Sorrow Prepares You For Joy. It Violently Sweeps Everything Out Of Your House, So That New Joy Can Find Space To Enter. It Shakes The Yellow Leaves From The Bough Of Your Heart, So That Fresh, Green Leaves Can Grow In Their Place. It Pulls Up The Rotten Roots, So That New Roots Hidden Beneath Have Room To Grow. Whatever Sorrow Shakes From Your Heart, Far Better Things Will Take Their Place.

Now I Am Sober And There's Only The Hangover And The Memory Of Love.