You don’t know unhappiness. True unhappiness is a state of mind that no object, sex, or drug can hide you from. It’s a drug of it’s own, so numbing no heroin addict could ever compare.

This is the tale of Sir Gallant the Firmhearted, first knight of the Dreamscape, founder and grandmaster of the Order of the Mouse.

I wake up every morning, and see your face looking at me from the picture of our first date. A memory in a frame, you always say.

Well all of my bones are just shaped the wrong way And my struggles are spelled out in the stars My mind was programmed as a newborn To eat itself alive And my past has my heart choked in scars

On monday morning Joe went fishing, And came back after tea, Any luck? his mother asked. Not a thing, said he. He tried again on tuesday, But not a fish was landed,

words said. words sown. sprout up. seedlings of guilt and hate. now rooted deep. towering loft of shady grim. here comes the chainsaw of truth, trying to topple years and years of woven dread.

And would you ever soar on up so high All over these forests and mountainsides While following the twists and turns below Of my own bluest river under skies

The Irishman takes out a g-string and bra.