The Difference Between People Isn't In Their

Softly, In The Dusk, A Woman Is Singing To Me; Taking Me Back Down The Vista Of Years, Till I See A Child Sitting Under The Piano, In The Boom Of The Tingling Strings And Pressing The Small, Poised Feet Of A Mother Who Smiles As She Sings.

And To My Lips' Bright Crimson Rim The Passion Slips, And Down My Slim White Body Drips The Shining Hymn.

Instead Of Chopping Yourself Down To Fit The World, Chop The World Down To Fit Yourself.

In America The Cohesion Was A Matter Of Choice And Will. But In Europe It Was Organic.

We Have Buried So Much Of The Delicate Magic Of Life.