Originally Posted by fleamailman
("...I fight myself kev, part of me wants to be very supportive and part of me wants to be very disruptive, the madness of madame bovery perhaps, the old man and his young goblin..." replied the goblin who at any rate found the first song somewhat reflective of what he meant with the life he must live on the outside as opposed his nature inside, sighing "...just a life of madame bovery, the prison of one's comfort-zone, and where one's art if anything is the fruit of one's frustration...")
I think we both understand each others lives, even though they we're and are lived very differently, there's a connection from one to the other through the words we write revealing who we really are.
Stone Walls do not a Prison make,
Nor Iron bars a Cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an Hermitage.
forgot to say thank you Mr Lovelace