In The Beginning, When I

Honey, No Offense, But Sometimes I Think I Could Shoot You And Watch You Kick.

The Smooth Stones You Pick Up And Examine Under The Moon's Light Have Been Made Blue From The Sea. Next Morning When You Pull Them From Your Trouser Pocket, They Are Still Blue.

My Life Is Going To Change. I Feel It.

There Is No God, And Conversation Is A Dying Art.

A Man Can Go Along Obeying All The Rules And Then It Don't Matter A Damn Anymore.