Everything I Wrote Was True

The Whole Mad Swirl Of Everything That Was To Come Began Then.

It’s A Sort Of Furtiveness … Like We Were A Generation Of Furtive. You Know, With An Inner Knowledge There’s No Use Flaunting On That Level, The Level Of The ‘public’, A Kind Of Beatness – I Mean, Being Right Down To It, To Ourselves, Because We All Really Know Where We Are – And A Weariness With All The Forms, All The Conventions Of The World … It’s Something Like That. So I Guess You Might Say We’re A Beat Generation.

The Tree Looks Like A Dog, Barking At Heaven.

Go Moan For Man. It's The Pathos Of People That Gets Us Down, All The Lovers In This Dream.

The Only Truth Is Music.