Poetry Is A Verdict Rather Than An

And What Can I Tell You, My Brother, My Killer, What Can I Possibly Say? I Guess That I Miss You, I Guess I Forgive You, I'm Glad You Stood In My Way

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.

It's Like A Bear Stumbling Into A Beehive Or A Honey Cache: I'm Stumbling Right Into It And Getting Stuck, And It's Delicious And It's Horrible And I'm In It And It's Not Very Graceful And It's Very Awkward And It's Very Painful And Yet There's Something Inevitable About It.

Take One Step To The Side And It's All Absurd.

Only In Canada Could Somebody With A Voice Like Mine Win 'vocalist Of The Year'.