Art Is A Never-ending Dance Of Illusions.

One Who Sings With His Tongue On Fire, Gargles In The Rat Race Choir.

You Just Don't Wake Up One Day And Decide That You Need To Write Songs.

Gold Will Never Free Your Father, The Price, My Dear, Is You Instead.

You're Gonna Have To Serve Somebody; Well, It May Be The Devil, Or It May Be The Lord, But You're Gonna Have To Serve Somebody.

If Not For You, Winter Wouldn't Hold No Spring, Couldn't Hear A Robin Sing. I Just Wouldn't Have A Clue, If Not For You.