Every Time You Pick Up Your Guitar

For Me, The Most Trustworthy Vehicle For Spirituality Had Always Proven To Be Music.

Time Can Bring You Down, Time Can Bend Your Knees.

They Found Our Hero In The Gutter With A Diamond Ring And A Gun.

My Selective Memory Of What Drinking Was Like Told Me That Standing At The Bar In A Pub, On A Summer's Evening With A Long, Tall Glass Of Lager And Lime Was Heaven, And I Chose Not To Remember The Nights On Which I Had Sat With A Bottle Of Vodka, A Gram Of Coke And A Shotgun, Contemplating Suicide.

Music Became A Healer For Me. And I Learned To Listen With All My Being. I Found That It Could Wipe Away All Fear And Confusion.