The Seattle Star

Beyond, up here on the mountain that I climb to lose you, I saw every bit of business that business could work through. I said ask me but, oh, my wisdom departed! Tell me–but, oh, my wisdom departed, but, oh please, at least answer me this–

Lost on a Sunday, in the Comics, but there’s no one there to wake her up. And the world is spinning, and she keeps on winning, but tell me what happens when it stops? They go isn’t she lovely, this Hollywood girl?

Same thing night after night. Just…repetitive. And the color is really bad — and the themes are just infantile…And you always get what you want — And that’s just not the way life is.

Just outside the gate I look into the courtyard underneath the gathering thunderstorm. Through the iron bars, I see the Black Maria revolving slowly on its platform. In the topmost tower, a light burns dim; a coiling filament glowing within1

Clocks on the wall talk to watches on the wrist. It’s the moments we relive, it’s the moments like this — when it’s time to get ill we’ll be so ahead of time — it’s the moments we achieve…Best believe it’s the moments.