A sweetly scented angel fell, she laid her head upon my disbelief, and battled with me with her ever smile.
Roll us down the mountain and I'm sure the fatman would win.
Everyone's saved, we're in the grave. See you there for afternoon tea.
Join the crazed institution of the stars.
God of ages, Lord of Time, mine is the right to be wrong.
My words are a whisper, your deafness a shout.