“I can't believe the news todayOh, I can't close my eyes And make it go awayHow long...How long must we sing this songHow long, how long...'cause tonight...we can be as oneTonight...Broken bottles under children's feetBodies strewn across the dead end streetBut I won't heed the battle callIt puts my back upPuts my back up against the wallSunday, Bloody Sunday”

“When shall I be dead and rid Of all the wrong my father did? How long, how long 'till spade and hearse Put to sleep my mother's curse?”

“How long does it have to go on? This punishment? Haven't I done time enough, haven't I served my term? can't I apply for a-pardon?”

“I hear my heartbeat. I have been looking at him too long, but then, he has been looking back, and I feel like we are both trying to say something the other can't hear, though I could be imagining it. Too long - and now even longer, my heart even louder, his tranquil eyes swallowing me whole.”

“But it is useless to dwell on this period of my life. If I go on long enough calling that my life I'll end up by believing it.”

“As the water pounded on my back, I reflected that I must be pretty simple. It didn't take much to make me happy. A long night with a dead guy had done the trick.”