Every Word I Say Has Chains Round

Now At Last I Know Why I Was Brought Here And What I Have To Do.

Very Few People Change After Well Say Seven Or Seventeen. Not Really. They Get More This Or More That And Of Course Look A Bit Different. But Inside They Are The Same.

If All Good, Respectable People Had One Face, I'd Spit In It.

Before I Could Read, Almost A Baby, I Imagined That God, This Strange Thing Or Person I Heard About, Was A Book.

When He Talked His Eyes Went Away From Mine And Then He Forced Himself To Look Straight At Me And He Began To Explain And I Knew That He Felt Very Strange With Me And That He Hated Me, And It Was Funny Sitting There And Talking Like That, Knowing He Hated Me.