I'll be dead before the day is done

"You do anything long enough to escape the habit of living until the escape becomes the habit"
- Nan Goldin

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness

 

"Style is character"

                                                                            -Baudelaire

Carols of lonesome love! Death's carols!

Soothe! soothe! soothe! Close on its wave soothes the wave behind, And again another behind, embracing and lapping, every one close, But my love soothes not me, not me.    Low hangs the moon—it rose late;   O it is lagging—O I think it is heavy with love, with love.    O madly the sea pushes, pushes upon the land, With love—with love.

Soothe! soothe! soothe!
Close on its wave soothes the wave behind,
And again another behind, embracing and lapping, every one close,
But my love soothes not me, not me.
Low hangs the moon—it rose late;
O it is lagging—O I think it is heavy with love, with love.
O madly the sea pushes, pushes upon the land,
With love—with love.

Soothe! soothe! soothe!

Close on its wave soothes the wave behind,

And again another behind, embracing and lapping, every one close,

But my love soothes not me, not me.

  

Low hangs the moon—it rose late;

 

O it is lagging—O I think it is heavy with love, with love.

  

O madly the sea pushes, pushes upon the land,

With love—with love.