
Her talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time she understood it no more than the butterfly did and she did not know when it was brushed or marred. Later she became conscious of her damaged wings and their construction and she learned to think and could not fly any more because the love of flight was gone and she could only remember when it had been effortless. - to paraphrase Hemingway!
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Sleepless
Jack
Old and grey
Ninety
Left To Right
Benefit
Wayward
Restless Bed of Water
Unfurl
Dust
Worst
Slaggier Than Thou
See Through
Booze and Fags
Improvisation 1
Arrogant
Moving To New York
Prophets
fags and booze.
Blocks
I'd quite like to spend some time with you
Beautiful Eyes
Eyes (Live)
Fags and Booze
Improvisation1
Lasciatemi Morire, Mine
Hahahahahahaha BEYOI
You and I Grew
Singers
Eyes Live
Upper Hand
Once
Return With the Light
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