Lives in eternity's sun rise.

When nations grow old the Arts grow cold And commerce settles on every tree

When the doors of perception are cleansed, men will see things as they truly are, infinite.

God and His Priest and King,...make up a heaven of our misery.

The Sick Rose O Rose, thou art sick. The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy, And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.

You've always had the power right there in your shoes, you just had to learn it for yourself.

Pity would be no more, If we did not make somebody poor. Mercy no more could be, If all were happy as we.