The Town Is Silent. The

My Eyes, Those Sluts, Those Whores, Would Play No More.

Now That I Have Written Many Words, And Let Out So Many Loves, For So Many, And Been Altogether What I Always Was A Woman Of Excess, Of Zeal And Greed, I Find The Effort Useless.

Need Is Not Quite Belief.

I've Grown Tired Of Love You Are The Trouble With Me I Watch You Walk Right By

To Love Another Is Somethinglike Prayer And It Can't Be Planned, You Just Fallinto Its Arms Because Your Belief Undoes Your Disbelief.