If You Want A Lover I'll Do

As Our Eyes Grow Accustomed To Sight They Armour Themselves Against Wonder.

When You Stop Thinking About Yourself All The Time, A Certain Sense Of Repose Overtakes You.

In Montreal Spring Is Like An Autopsy. Everyone Wants To See The Inside Of The Frozen Mammoth. Girls Rip Off Their Sleeves And The Flesh Is Sweet And White, Like Wood Under Green Bark. From The Streets A Sexual Manifesto Rises Like An Inflating Tire, “the Winter Has Not Killed Us Again!

I Dreamed About You Baby. It Was Just The Other Night. Most Of You Was Naked Ah, But Some Of You Was Light.

Your Servant Here, He Has Been Told To Say It Clear, To Say It Cold: It's Over, It Ain't Going Any Further And Now The Wheels Of Heaven Stop You Feel The Devil's Riding Crop Get Ready For The Future: It Is Murder