How Good Is Life, The

A Pretty Woman's Worth Some Pains To See.

Kiss Me As If You Made Believe You Were Not Sure This Eve, How My Face, Your Flower, Had Pursed It's Petals Up.

Death: The Grand Perhaps.

As Is Your Sort Of Mind, So Is Your Sort Of Search: You Will Find What You Desire.

In Heaven I Yearn For Knowledge, Account All Else Inanity; On Earth I Confess An Itch For The Praise Of Fools - That's Vanity