In Fact, In Lyric Poetry,

Hope For A Great Sea-change Timid To Rebuke And Too Petty To Forgive.

Once Off The Bush The Fruit Fermented, The Sweet Flesh Would Turn Sour. I Always Felt Like Crying. It Wasn't Fair That All The Lovely Canfuls Smelt Of Rot. Each Year I Hoped They'd Keep, Knew They Would Not. -blackberry Picking

Then As The Years Went On And My Listening Became More Deliberate, I Would Climb Up On An Arm Of Our Big Sofa To Get My Ear Closer To The Wireless Speaker.

Behaviour That's Admired Is The Path To Power Among People Everywhere.

Loyalism, Or Unionism, Or Protestantism, Or Whatever You Want To Call It, In Northern Ireland - It Operates Not As A Class System, But A Caste System.