And A Thimble's Worth Of Milky Moon

We Are Blessed And Sustained By What Is Not Said

I Wasn't Interested In Writing Music That Wasn't Beautiful For Me To Listen To.

I Have A Lot Of Interest In Interior Rhyming; Not Just Rhyming At The End Of The Lines, But Playing Around With Rhymes Within The Lines, Playing With Where The Syllabic Emphases In The Sentences Are, Lining Those Up At Strange Moments In The Line Of The Song. I’m Not Sure If That Comes Across Or Not.

And All That We Built, And All That We Breathed And All That We Spilled Or Pulled Up Like Weeds Is Piled Up In Back And It Burns Irrevocably And We Spoke Up In Turns 'til The Silence Crept Over Me.

I Can Understand Someone Not Liking The Voice Or The Songs.