I'll Get Back To The Whores And

Take A Writer Away From His Typewriter And All You Have Left Is The Sickness Which Started Him Typing In The Beginning

The Empty, The Angry, The Lonely, The Tricked, We Are All Museums Of Fear.

And There I Was, 225 Pounds, Perpetually Lost And Confused, Short Legs, Ape-like Upper Body, All Chest, No Neck, Head Too Large, Blurred Eyes, Hair Uncombed, 6 Feet Of Geek, Waiting For Her.

Dying In A A War Never Stopped Wars From Happening.

Once A Woman Turns Against You, Forget It. They Can Love You, Then Something Turns In Them. They Can Watch You Dying In A Gutter, Run Over By A Car, And They'll Spit On You.