"Forever doubting, I implored you to embrace my relief seeking soul. The tired husk of human cells, relentless in causing harm – to itself, to the world it walked on. Sinking in the mist of intractable frivolity, brought the fingers up; then up to the high heavens in plain, crinkled up, paper sheets. White and pristine, no more – it relied on waters dropping, from that same heavenly pastures. ‘Curse you, to hell’ he murmured. Curse you, to all high heaven.’"
- Come Here Floyd