Avoid The World, It's Just A Lot

I Am Always Thinking 'what Am I Doing Here? Is This The Way I Am Supposed To Feel?'

The Beauty Of Things Must Be That They End.

I Can't Think Of Anybody...who Knows The Sum And Substance Of What I Know And Feel And Cry About In My Secret Self All The Time When I Don't Feel Strong, The Sorrows Of Time And Personality, And Can Therefore On All Levels Make It All The Way With Me

Down In Denver, All I Did Was Die.

Who Doesn't Feel Studious When He Doesn't Have A Girl With A Riviera Suntan?