And not yet, Biggles. Lol. I might need help with the melody aspect of tragedy, but that's going to be one of the last paragraphs of the paper. I'll figure it out. Thanks though.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
These were autumn mornings, the time of year when kings of old went forth to conquest; and I, never stirring from my little corner in Calcutta, would let my mind wander over the whole world. — Rabindranath Tagore, The Cabuliwallah
