I Pressed Her Thigh And Death Smiled

Guileless And Without Vanity, We Were Still In Love With Ourselves Then. We Felt Comfortable In Our Skins, Enjoyed The News That Our Senses Released To Us, Admired Our Dirt, Cultivated Our Scars, And Could Not Comprehend This Unworthiness. Jealousy We Understood And Thought Natural--a Desire To Have What Somebody Else Had; But Envy Was A Strange, New Feeling For Us.

No One Thought Up Being. He Who Thinks He Has, Step Forward.

No Eternal Reward Will Forgive Us Now For Wasting The Dawn.

They Got The Guns But We Got The Numbers.

There Are Images I Need To Complete My Own Reality.