How steep the stairs within Kings’ houses are
For exile-wearied feet as mine to tread,
And O how salt and bitter is the bread
Which falls from this Hound’s table — better far
That I had died in the red ways of war,
Or that the gate of Florence bare my head,
Than to live thus, by all things comraded
Which seek the essence of my soul to mar.
“Curse God and die: what better hope than this?
He hath forgotten thee in all the bliss
Of his gold city, and eternal day”—
Nay peace: behind my prison’s blinded bars
I do possess what none can take away,
My love, and all the glory of the stars.
“You can put a lady in a tiny bikini on the cover of a magazine and that’s absolutely fine. But as soon as you say she’s a nymphomaniac, it sparks controversy. We’re hypocrites. People are threatened by female sexuality. We almost never see women strong and determined. It’s amazing that women are finally standing up for themselves.”—Stacy Martin, Dazed & Confused interview, February 2014
…. their album re-imagines classic Underground tracks with pizza-themed lyrics (“I’m begininnnnng to eaaaat the sliiiice”), resulting in deep (dish) cuts like “I’m Waiting for Delivery Man”, “Cheese Days”, and “All the Pizza Parties”.