I Don't Think She's Ever Coming Back.

It's Funny How When You're Little, You Miss All The Little Lies. They Float Right Past You, But You Don't Wonder About Them Much. For A Long Time, You Think This Is Just Something Adults Still Do After Being Kids - Pretend.

You Are The Most Dangerous Kind Of Female The World Can Ever Know. You Carry The Seeds For Your Own Destruction And The Destruction Of Everyone Who Loves You. And A Great Many Will Love You For Your Beautiful Face For Your Seductive Body; But You Will Fail Them All Because You Will Believe They All Fail You First. You Are An Idealist Of The Worst Kind - The Romantic Idealist. Born To Destroy And Self Destruct.

Love, When It Came And Knocked On My Door, Was Going To Be Enough. And That Unknown Author Who'd Written That If You Had Fame, It Was Not Enough, And If You Had Wealth As Well, It Was Still Not Enough, And If You Had Fame, Wealth, And Also Love ... Still It Was Not Enough - Boy, Did I Feel Sorry For Him.

It Is So Appropriate To Color Hope Yellow, Like The Sun We Seldom Saw. And As I Begin To Copy From The Old Memorandum Journals That I Kept For So Long, A Title Comes As If Inspired. 'open The Window And Stand In The Sunshine.' Yet, I Hesitate To Name Our Story That. For I Think Of Us More As Flowers In The Attic.

I Wish The Night Would End, I Wish The Day'd Begin, I Wish It Would Rain Or Snow, Or The Wind Would Blow, Or The Grass Would Grow, I Wish I Had Yesterday, I Wish There Were Games To Play.