I Can't Go On. I'll Go On.

I Try. I Fail. I Try Again. I Fail Better.

We Have Time To Grow Old. The Air Is Full Of Our Cries. But Habit Is A Great Deadener.

I Pause To Record That I Feel In Extraordinary Form. Delirium Perhaps.

In The Name Of Bacon Will You Chicken Me Up That Egg. Shall I Swallow Cave-phantoms?

Personally Of Course I Regret Everything. Not A Word, Not A Deed, Not A Thought, Not A Need, Not A Grief, Not A Joy, Not A Girl, Not A Boy, Not A Doubt, Not A Trust, Not A Scorn, Not A Lust, Not A Hope, Not A Fear, Not A Smile, Not A Tear, Not A Name, Not A Face, No Time, No Place...that I Do Not Regret, Exceedingly. An Ordure, From Beginning To End.