There Is No Good Singing, There Is

The People Who Raised Me Musically Are My Mother, Who Is A Classically Trained Pianist, And My Stepfather.

Maybe I'm Too Young To Keep Good Love From Going Wrong, But Tonight You're On My Mind, So You Never Know.

Music Is My Mother And My Father; It Is My Work And My Rest...my Blood...my Compass...my Love.

Love Is Not A Victory March, It's A Cold And It's A Broken Hallelujah.

Your Soul Can Fly Outward, Stringed To Your Ribcage Like A Shimmering Kite In The Shape Of An Open Hand. Be Still And Listen To The Evidence Of Your Own Holiness.