A quiet well-behaved boy is likely to be both frightened and ambitious.
My mentors grow old and foolish. I am afraid.
The lyric deals with love and sorrow, the aphorism with contradiction and deceit.
The little suckings and smackings of the perversions are the sounds of joyous infancy.
Drunks conjure an endless drama from their bottles.
When Medusa looks in the mirror, she sees the Lady of Sorrows.