I Think I Must Be, Absolutely, A

These Tears I'm Wailing, I Spill Not Without Reason. Remove Them, My Dearest Love. Take Me To The Place I've Been Dreaming Of, Where The Grotesquely Lonely Meet The Grotesquely Lonely And They Whisper, Just Very Softly, Please Be Mine, Dearest Love.

I Don't Mind If You Forget Me. Having Learned My Lesson, I Never Left An Impression On Anyone.

I Am Attracted To Humans. But, Of Course... Not Many.

The Sorrow Of The Ira Brighton Bombing Is That Thatcher Escaped Unscathed.

I Can't Believe I'm 29. Where Did The Years Go? Why Did The Years Go?