Being In A Floodplain Is Like Sitting

Every Song Falls Short Of The Glory Of What A Song Could Be. That's Why The Urge Is There To Start Again And Yet Again. Often It's The Fault Of Rhyme. I've Discovered A Hundred Times That There Just Aren't Enough Rhymes To Say What I Wanted To Say, So I Said Something Else Instead. Sometimes It Was A Better Thing, But The Thing I Meant To Say Went Unsaid. So There's An Opening For Another Song.

There Is A Road, No Simple Highway, Between The Dawn And The Dark Of Night, And If You Go, No One May Follow, That Path Is For Your Steps Alone.

Crippled But Free, I Was Blind All The Time I Was Learning To See.

But I Would Rather Be With You, Somewhere In San Francisco On A Back Porch In July, Just Looking Up To Heaven, At This Crescent In The Sky

There Are Times When You Get Hit Upon, Try Hard But You Cannot Give. Other Times You'd Gladly Part, With What You Need To Live