Sing And Your Hell Is

The Elixir Of Life, The Philosopher's Stone Is Yours If You Surrender Sterile Logic, Trivial Reason.

No One Knows, The Heart Of A Child, How It Grows Until It Is Too Late.

No Man Will Be Present In Those Mysteries, Yet All Men Will Kneel, No Man Will Be Potent, Important, Yet All Men Will Feel What It Is To Be A Woman.

We Are These People, Wistful, Ironical, Wilful, Who Have No Part In New-world Reconstruction, In The Confederacy Of Labour.

I Could Not Accept From Wisdom What Love Taught, Woman Is Perfect.