Garages, Barns And Attics Are Always Older

Any Of The Decisions That I Made, If One Could Actually Locate A Shape Or Form, Were All Within A Wall, The Landscape Of Music.

I Have To Finish It In Order To Know Whether It Deserves To Survive.

You Can Say That I've Grown Bitter But Of This You Can Be Sure. The Rich Have Get Their Channels In The Bedrooms Of The Poor. And There's A Mighty Judgement Coming But I May Be Wrong.

Dance Me To Your Beauty With A Burning Violin Dance Me Through The Panic 'til I'm Gathered Safely In Lift Me Like An Olive Branch And Be My Homeward Dove Dance Me To The End Of Love

I Swear By This Song And By All That I Have Done Wrong, I Will Make It All Up To Thee.