It Would Be Pleasant To Be Drunk.

I Think I've Been Writing Black Poems All Along, Wearing My White Mask. I'm Always The Victim ... But No Longer!

I Would Like To Think That No One Would Die Anymore If We All Believed In Daisies But The Worms Know Better, Don't They? They Slide Into The Ear Of A Corpse And Listen To His Great Sigh.

Rocks Crumble, Make New Forms, Oceans Move The Continents, Mountains Rise Up And Down Like Ghosts Yet All Is Natural, All Is Change.

All Day I've Built A Lifetime And Now The Sun Sinks To Undo It.

Fear / A Motor, / Pumps Me Around And Around / Until I Fade Slowly.