By the cold and religious we were taken in hand - shown how to feel good; and told to feel bad.

I feel I have the potential to reach an audience beyond anything I can imagine.

Can't you see it all makes perfect sense, expressed in dollars and cents, pounds shillings and pence, can't you see it all; makes perfect sense

ashes or diamonds foe or friend we're all equal in the end

Not the torturer will scare me, nor the body's final fall, nor the barrels of death's rifles, nor the shadows on the wall, nor the night when to the ground the last dim star of pain, is hurled but the blind indifference of a merciless, unfeeling world.

Wish You Were Here So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, Blue skys from pain. Can you tell a green field From a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell? And did they get you to trade Your heros for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange A walk on part in the war For a lead role in a cage? How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls Swimming in a fish bowl, Year after year, Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.

Money, so they say, is the root of all evil today. But if you ask for a rise it's no surprise that they're giving none away.