As It Has Been Said:

Fear / A Motor, / Pumps Me Around And Around / Until I Fade Slowly.

The Trouble With Therapy Is That It Makes Life Go Backwards.

Blue Eyes Wash Off Sometimes.

Bike Downtown, Stick Out Tongues At The Catholics. Or Form A Piss Club Where We All Go In The Bushes And Peek At Each Other's Sex.

I Put The Gold Star Up In The Front Window Beside The Flag. Alterations Is What I Know And What I Did: Hems, Gussets And Seams.