I Started Writing Songs After I Heard

Some Things Are Too Terrible To Be True.

Night Can Swallow You Up, Yet None Of It Touches You. Around Any Corner, There's A Promise Of Something Daring And Ideal And Things Are Just Getting Going. There's Something Obscenely Joyful Behind Every Door, Either That Or Somebody Crying With Their Head In In Their Hands. A Lazy Rhythm Looms In The Dreamy Air And The Atmosphere Pulsates With Bygone Duels, Past-life Romance, Comrades Requesting Comrades To Aid Them In Some Way. You Can't See It, But You Know It's There

Art Is A Never-ending Dance Of Illusions.

Little Red Wagon, Little Red Bike, I Ain’t No Monkey But I Know What I Like.

Get Jailed, Jump Bail, Join The Army If You Fail.