At Six I Lived In A Graveyard

The Body Is A Damn Hard Thing To Kill.

God Has A Brown Voice, As Soft And Full As Beer.

Now I Am Going Back And I Have Ripped My Hand From Your Hand As I Said I Would And I Have Made It This Far.

Suddenly I'm Not Half The Girl I Used To Be. There's A Shadow Hanging Over Me . . . From Me To You Out Of My Electric Devil.

To Die Whole, Riddled With Nothing But Desire For It, Is Like Breakfast After Love.