I Don't Think I Am Any Good.

I Have A Vision Of The Future, Chum. The Workers Flats In Fields Of Soya Beans Tower Up Like Silver Pencils, Score On Score.

Lord, Reserve For Me A Crown, And Do Not Let My Shares Go Down.

Imprisoned In A Cage Of Sound, Even The Trivial Seems Profound

History Must Not Be Written With Bias, And Both Sides Must Be Given, Even If There Is Only One Side.

I Am Still Reeling With Delight At The Soaring Majesty Of Norfolk.