The Dead Are Often Known To Eat

I Sit In My Tree I Sing Like The Birds My Beak Is My Pen My Songs Are My Poems.

Everybody's Got The Seam Of Goodness In Them, Kit," Said Grandpa. "just A Matter Of Whether It Can Be Found And Brought Out Into The Light.

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.

Maybe We're All In Somebody's Dream. Maybe Everything's A Dream, And Nothing Else.

I Thought How You Can Never Tell Just By Looking At Them What They Were Thinking Or What Was Happening In Their Lives. Even When You Got Daft People Or Drunk People On Buses, People That Went On Stupid And Shouted Rubbish Or Tried To Tell You All About Themselves, You Could Never Really Tell About Them Either... I Knew If Somebody Looked At Me, They'd Know Nothing About Me, Either.