It's You My Love, You Who Are

And Clenching Your Fist For The Ones Like Us Who Are Oppressed By The Figures Of Beauty.

The Duty Of Lovers Is To Tarnish The Golden Rule

She Was Made Of Flesh And Eyelashes.

My Page Was Too White My Ink Was Too Thin The Day Wouldn't Write What The Night Pencilled In.

It's True That All The Men You Knew Were Dealers Who Said They Were Through With Dealing Every Time You Gave Them Shelter. I Know That Kind Of Man It's Hard To Hold The Hand Of Anyone Who Is Reaching For The Sky Just To Surrender.