“Into the well of ideas I never dropped, off the edge of my better side I popped, a spell of good weather gave me lightness, but the gravity it never went away, and onwards we trudge, a stronghold we claim, is it a stronghold we’ve got? is it balls, the strategy is theoretically right, but is it right? is it balls, oh my love is gone and my faith is shot and I fall to ground like a corpse, I lift my arms to the heavens and shout ‘want can I do?’, and onwards we trudge”*
