A sign that hangs on down the street proclaims to one and all that coming soon there will be a Lonely-Hearts Club Ball. A dance of manic turbulence where singles 're all & none. You can come all by yourself, but you'll never leave as one. You'll be swept into unity with undulating hoards. Bound by bindings you'll feel, not see; you'll never cut these cords. So, welcome to the end of you, as only you can know. And welcome to the beginning of the everlasting flow. For an end is a beginning of something bold and new. And a beginning is an end: 'cause we're just passing through.