Fear, She's The Mother Of Violence.

Once The Flames Begin To Catch The Wind Will Blow It Higher, Oh Biko, Biko.

At The Heart, It Is World Music That I Do. It's All Connections. Ultimately, We're All Connected.

Words, They Climb All Over You/'til They Uncover You From Where You Hide.

I Try When I'm Writing To Fill My Head And My Ears With All Sorts Of Stuff And Then Let It Settle And Filter Through. At A Certain Point It Seems Like Fruitless Activity Because You're Taking A Lot Of Time And Not Seeming To Get Anything. And Then, Slowly, You Realize You've Actually Digested Elements And That Your Thinking Is Being Freed Up And The Way You Build Up Compositions Is Changed As A Result Of What You've Been Listening To.

Letting Go, It's So Hard The Way It's Hurting Now To Get This Love Untied So Tough To Stay With This Thing 'cos If I Follow Through I Face What I Denied I'll Get Those Hooks Out Of Me And I'll Take Out The Hooks That I Sunk Deep In Your Side Kill That Fear Of Emptiness, That Loneliness I Hide.