The road to hell is paved with good intentions. But what is the point of trying to make things right when it will only lead to the damnation of burning hell? What is the point in trying to even pic up the pieces--in trying to piece them back together? If the only the only thing I will get out of it are the ashes and fifth of my gory life. What is the point of fixing what's broken when the intent was to have them remain whole again in the first place. It seems that intent is meaningless. Worthless "meant to be's" and "supposed to be's" that was mixed together in a boiling pot that was intended to be hope and faith, but was turned into bitterness by once misstep in its recipe. I didn't for this to fall in in pit of hell. I didn't mean to burn it alive. I didn't mean for any of this. I didn't "intend" for it to be this way.
How foolish is that?
I am already here. I've been here. My soul is a piece of hell wrapped in flesh, and my flesh loves its fire.
The 30th Annual Grammy Music Awards
March 2, 1988
Radio City Music Hall
New York City
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
