Oh, I Am A Lonely Painter /

And The Seasons They Go 'round And 'round And The Painted Ponies Go Up And Down We're Captive On The Carousel Of Time We Can't Return We Can Only Look Behind From Where We Came And Go Round And Round And Round In The Circle Game.

Everything Comes And Goes; Pleasure Moves On Too Early And Trouble Leaves Too Slow

If I'm Censoring For Anyone, It's For My Parents. They Are Very Old-fashioned And Moral People. They Still Don't Understand Me That Well.

I Had Made All These Rules For Myself: I'm Not Writing Social Commentary, I'm Not Writing Love Songs.

Love Is Touching Souls.