Pools Of Sorrow. Waves Of Joy.

We've Learned Over The Years That If We Wanted We Could Write Anything That Just Felt Good Or Sounded Good And It Didn't Necessarily Have To Have Any Particular Meaning To Us. As Odd As It Seemed To Us, Reviewers Would Take It Upon Themselves To Interject Their Own Meanings On Our Lyrics. Sometimes We Sit And Read Other People's Interpretations Of Our Lyrics And Think, 'hey, That's Pretty Good.' If We Liked It, We Would Keep Our Mouths Shut And Just Accept The Credit As If It Was What We Meant All Along.

But For Me At Any Rate It Was All Part Of Dissolving The God Trip Or Father-figure Trip. Facing Up To Reality Instead Of Always Looking For Some Kind Of Heaven.

I Keep On Reading The Morning Star Newspaper To See If There's Any Hope, But It Seems To Be In The 19th Century; It Seems To Be Written For Dropped-out, Middle-aged Liberals.

You Can Go To Church And Sing A Hymn, Judge Me By The Colour Of My Skin, You Can Live A Lie Until You Die, One Thing You Can't Hide Is When You're Crippled Inside.

Like Paul Kraston Said, All I Ask In Life Is A Water Bed, A Tv And A Typewriter. Well, I'll Just Have An Ordinary Bed, A Tv And A Guitar.