The lot of the many is to have as a profession,
for the earning of their living and the satisfaction
of society's claim on them, a more or less soulless labor
in which they can give out little or nothing of their human qualities,
because in that labor they have to be
little better than human machines.
;Yet no one finds himself in the position of having no possible
opportunity of giving himself to others as a human being.
...No fate can prevent a man from giving to others this
direct human service side by side with his lifework.
If so much of such service remains unrealized,
it is because the opportunities are missed.

JM

Writhing in love you swear
what you feel is real
Bending your every illusion
You fake it all too well
Numbing the mind rest inside
that hate left unspoken
Tasting the truth it's shy
afraid to be broken

And it's humbling
This pain you feel inside
And it's stuttering
These words that I must try

Seeing the unheard you know
that it cannot heal
Breaking the bonds you swear
that you swear to feel
Can you awake from sleep downed
you allow me to steal
Gagging on selfish hide
when you crawl to kneel

And it's humbling
This pain you feel inside
And it's stuttering
These words that I must try

And I'm choking on love
I made you feel

Story from North America (FULL VERSION!) from Kirsten Lepore on Vimeo.

Come on skinny love just last the year
Pour a little salt we were never here
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer

I tell my love to wreck it all
Cut out all the ropes and let me fall
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Right in the moment this order's tall

I told you to be patient
I told you to be fine
I told you to be balanced
I told you to be kind
In the morning I'll be with you
But it will be a different "kind"
I'll be holding all the tickets
And you'll be owning all the fines

Come on skinny love what happened here
Suckle on the hope in lite brassiere
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Sullen load is full; so slow on the split

I told you to be patient
I told you to be fine
I told you to be balanced
I told you to be kind
Now all your love is wasted?
Then who the hell was I?
Now I'm breaking at the britches
And at the end of all your lines

Who will love you?
Who will fight?
Who will fall far behind?