I Was Blessed To Grow Up In

In Greek Tragedy, They Fall From Great Heights. In Noir, They Fall From The Curb.

Narrative Becomes The Way You Make Sense Of Chaos. That's How You Focus The World. It's The Only Reason You Should Ever Try This Writing Job.

How Am I Supposed To Let You Go, That's All I'm Asking. I Want To Hold You Again, Smell You, And, Yes Too, I Just Want You To Fade. To Please, Please Fade.

I Sort Of Play Golf Because A Lot Of My Friends Are Into It, But I'm Awful - My Handicap Is About Six Or Seven Thousand.

Charm Was The Luxury Of Those Who Still Believed In The Essential Rightness Of Things. In Purity And Picket Fences.