When I Lie Down To Love, Old

A Woman Who Writes Feels Too Much.

Cinderella And The Prince Lived, They Say, Happily Ever After, Like Two Dolls In A Museum Case Never Bothered By Diapers Or Dust, Never Arguing Over The Timing Of An Egg, Never Telling The Same Story Twice.

God Has A Brown Voice, As Soft And Full As Beer.

All Who Love Have Lied.

Oh, Darling, Let Your Body In, Let It Tie You In, In Comfort.