Grey is morning, my heart after it rains
Nothing washed away, just polished...

Morning light
Spills in through...

The Blue Boy is a pitiful thing
Coiled up in a little tin ball...

You know how it feels, don't you?
Pastor John goes home to beat his wife...

O, mother, please put down the needle long enough...
O, lover, what have you taken from me? I have paid...

If you see her on the street
You should greet her with care...

He saw a lot of red in his days
Crimson against fair sand, russet hide...

New-car smell, like tight bleached
leather and cigarettes, united with...