God Help Me, I'm Just Not That

[i]t Is The Wine That Leads Me On, The Wild Wine That Sets The Wisest Man To Sing At The Top Of His Lungs, Laugh Like A Fool – It Drives The Man To Dancing... It Even Tempts Him To Blurt Out Stories Better Never Told.

Nothing Shall I, While Sane, Compare With A Friend.

In Every Sorrowing Soul I Pour'd Delight, And Poverty Stood Smiling In My Sight.

Oh, Everything Looks Bad If You Remember It.

See Now, How Men Lay Blame Upon Us Gods For What Is After All Nothing But Their Own Folly.