It's Like Going Out To

I Say There're No Depressed Words Just Depressed Minds.

It's Like Going Out To The Desert And Screaming And Then Having Little Kids Throw Their Sandbox At You. I'm Only 24.

Every Nerve In My Body Is So Vacant And Numb/i Can't Even Remember What It Was I Came Here To Get Away From/don't Even Hear A Murmur Of A Prayer/it's Not Dark Yet, But It's Getting There.

Her Profession's Her Religion, Her Sin Is Lifelessness.

Really The Truth Is Just A Plain Picture. A Plain Picture Of, Let's Say, A Tramp Vomiting In The Sewere. You Know, And Next Door To The Picture Mr. Rockefeller Or Mr. C. W. Jones On The Subway Going To Work. You Know, Any Kind Of Picture. Just Make A Collage Of Pictures.