The History Of Melancholia Includes All Of

What's Wrong With Assholes, Baby?

When I Was A Boy I Used To Dream Of Becoming The Village Idiot. I Used To Lie In Bed And Imagine Myself The Happy Idiot Able To Get Food Easily ...and Easy Sympathy, A Planned Confusion Of Not Too Much Love Or Effort. Some Would Claim That I Have Succeeded.

Oh, I Don’t Mean You’re Handsome, Not The Way People Think Of Handsome. Your Face Seems Kind. But Your Eyes - They’re Beautiful. They’re Wild, Crazy, Like Some Animal Peering Out Of A Forest On Fire.

I Remember Awakening One Morning And Finding Everything Smeared With The Color Of Forgotten Love.

You've Got To Rise From The Floor Alone Or Fall Back Alone.