They Will Love Me For

I Crave White On White And Black, But My Thoughts Race In Glorious Technicolour, Prodding Me Awake, Whipping Away The Warm Blanket Of Invisibility Every Time It Sears To Smother My Mind In Nothing.

Sleep With A Dog And Rise Full Of Fleas.

She's Talking About Herself In The Third Person Because The Idea Of Being Who She Is, Of Acknowledging That She Is Herself, Is More Than Her Pride Can Take.

The Chicken's Still Dancing The Chicken Won't Stop

They Will Love Me For That Which Destroys Me.