As I Grew Older I Became A

All Day Long Wearing A Hat That Wasn't On My Head

I Could Hear Dean, Blissful And Blabbering And Frantically Rocking. Only A Guy Who's Spent Five Years In Jail Can Go To Such Maniacal Helpless Extremes; Beseeching At The Portals Of The Soft Source, Mad With A Completely Phsycial Realization Of The Origins Of Life-bliss; Blindly Seeking To Return The Way He Came

Pain Or Love Or Danger Makes You Real Again.

And I Said, 'that Last Thing Is What You Can't Get, Carlo. Nobody Can Get To That Last Thing. We Keep On Living In Hopes Of Catching It Once And For All.

"what Do You Want Out Of Life?" I Asked, And I Used To Ask That All The Time Of Girls.