God Lead Us Past The Setting Of

Life Is A Loom, Weaving Illusion.

Oh, I Have Walked In Kansas Through Many A Harvest Field, And Piled The Sheaves Of Glory There And Down The Wild Rows Reeled: Each Sheaf A Little Yellow Sun, A Heap Of Hot-rayed Gold; Each Binder Like Creation's Hand To Mold Suns, As Of Old.

Change The Fabric Of Your Own Soul And Your Own Visions, And You Change All.

They Tried To Get Me - I Got Them First! [suicide.]

The Crooning Turns To A Sunrise Singing.