Hardship May Dishearten At First, But Every

I Am So Close, I May Look Distant.

A Lover Knows Only Humility, He Has No Choice. He Steals Into Your Alley At Night, He Has No Choice. He Longs To Kiss Every Lock Of Your Hair, Don't Fret, He Has No Choice. In His Frenzied Love For You, He Longs To Break The Chains Of His Imprisonment, He Has No Choice.

You Must Lance An Ulcer To Heal It. You Must Tear Down Parts Of An Old Building To Restore It, And So It Is With A Sensual Life That Has No Spirit In It.

Love Is The Reality, And Poetry Is The Drum.

I Have No Name For What Circles So Perfectly.