There's A Deep Tribal Aspect To My

And I'll Dance With You In Vienna, I'll Be Wearing A River's Disguise. The Hyacinth Wild On My Shoulder My Mouth On The Dew Of Your Thighs. And I'll Bury My Soul In A Scrapbook, With The Photographs There And The Moss. And I'll Yield To The Flood Of Your Beauty, My Cheap Violin And My Cross.

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.

How Bitter Were The Prozac Pills Of The Last Few Hundred Mornings

Don't Dwell On What Has Passed Away Or What Is Yet To Be.

And Here You Are Hurried, And Here You Are Gone; And Here Is The Love, That It's All Built Upon.