And You Know, I Agree

But Here, In The Murk Of Conflagration, Where Scarcely A Friend Is Left To Know We, The Survivors, Do Not Flinch From Anything, Not From A Single Blow. Surely The Reckoning Will Be Made After The Passing Of This Cloud. We Are The People Without Tears, Straighter Than You ... More Proud.

That Was When The Ones Who Smiled Were The Dead, Glad To Be At Rest.

Forgive Me, That I Manage Badly, Manage Badly But Live Gloriously, That I Leave Traces Of Myself In My Songs, That I Appeared To You In Waking Dreams.

I Have Long Had This Premonition Of A Bright Day And A Deserted House

There Is A Sacred, Secret Line In Loving Which Attraction And Even Passion Cannot Cross.