Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine, You taste so bitter and so sweet Oh I could drink a case of you, darling And I would still be on my feet I would still be on my feet.

You go down to the pick up station Craving warmth and beauty You settle for less than fascination A few drinks later you're not so choosy When the closing ligh…

Rows and flows of angel hair, And ice cream castles in the air, And feather canyons ev'rywhere, I've looked at clouds that way. But now they only block the sun…

In our possessive coupling So much could not be expressed So now I'm returning to myself These things that you and I suppressed.

Je l'ai trop aime pour ne le point hair!

Somehow she had thought of him so much that when she actually saw him again her affection seemed cooler. Had she worn out the passion by dint of constancy?

L'amour aussi bien que le feu ne peut subsister sans un mouvement continuel; et il cesse de vivre des qu'il cesse d'esperer ou de craindre.