Trouble And Pain Were What Kept A

There Is Moss On The Walls And The Stain Of Thought And Failure And Waiting

It’s Hard To Drink When You Dance. And It’s Hard To Dance When You Drink.

Things Get Bad For All Of Us, Almost Continually, And What We Do Under The Constant Stress Reveals Who/what We Are.

In This Room The Hours Of Love Still Make Shadows.

As We Go On With Our Lives We Tend To Forget That The Jails And The Hospitals And The Madhouses And The Graveyards Are Packed.