When my heart can beat no more, I hope I die for a principle or a belief that I have lived for.

I exist in the depths of solitude pondering my true goal. Trying to find peace of mind and still preserve my soul.

Sometimes, when I'm alone, I cry, 'cause I am on my own. The tears I cry are bitter and warm. They flow with life, but take no form. I cry because my heart is torn. I find it difficult to carry on. If I had an ear to confide in, I would cry among my treasured friends, but who do you know that stops that long, to help another carry on?

Plunge into the deep without fear, with the gladness of April in your heart.

I dwell with a strangely aching heart In that vanished abode there far apart.

I am restless. I am athirst for faraway things. My soul goes out in a longing to touch the skirt of the dim distance. O Great Beyond, O the keen call of thy flute! I forget, I ever forget, that I have no wings to fly, that I am bound in this spot evermore.