I Sit In My Tree I Sing

Anything Seems Possible At Night When The Rest Of The World Has Gone To Sleep.

This Is Our World. Aye, There's More Than Enough Of Darkness In It. But Over Everything There's All This Joy, Kit. There's All This Lovely, Lovely Light.

The Dead Are Often Known To Eat 27 And 53

We Come To A Lamp Beside The Pathway, And Suddenly We Stop Walking, And We Start To Dance, And We Glitter In The Shafts Of Light, Like Stars, Like Flies, Like Flakes Of Dust.

Truth And Dreams Are Always Getting Muddled.