TO BE FAIR I NEVER REALLY TRIEDnAND ON REFLECTION IT WAS JUST AS WELLnI TIRED OF WALKING ON THIN ICEnI'M INCLINED TO SAVOURnTHE FLAVOUR OVER THE SMELLnIT'S TOO MUCH EFFORT FOR ME TO FIGHT,nTHE CONTRADICTIONS AND FEARS OF OTHERSnMY DESIRES ARE GREATER AND BLOOD RUNS THICKERnTHAN THE SPERM AND SPITTLE OF WORN OUT LOVERSnAND IF THE PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN THE SWORDnAND THE INKWELLS HAVE ALL RUN DRYnWHO AM I TO CARE AS WE DAMP DOWN THE FIRESnCAXTON'S SPINNING IN HIS GRAVE, I WILL NOT CRYnFOR NOW I'LL LET A GREY SUN RISEnAMONG THE THICKETS AND THORNS OF MY PRIDEnLOOKING BACK WAS ALWAYS A GREATER SIN THAN LYINGnAND YOUR CHEAP SHOTS DISLODGED THE SCALES FROM MY EYES