You Fit Into Me Like A Hook

We Thought We Had Such Problems. How Were We To Know We Were Happy?

In The First World War, People Would Be Receiving Letters From Loved Ones Who Had Been Dead For Weeks, And They Would Not Know Until That Black-bordered Telegram Arrived. I Remember, Of Course, When It Was Letters Only, Or The Telephone, And You Did Not Make Expensive Long-distance Calls Unless It Was, "come Home To The Funeral," Or The Like.

In My Dreams Of This City I Am Always Lost.

I Don't Want To Look At Something That Determines Me So Completely.

I Wanted To Forget The Past, But It Refused To Forget Me; It Waited For Sleep, Then Cornered Me.