I Always Loved Those Little Creatures [hummingbird],

I've Seen The Future And It's Murder.

Dance Me To Your Beauty With A Burning Violin Dance Me Through The Panic 'til I'm Gathered Safely In Lift Me Like An Olive Branch And Be My Homeward Dove Dance Me To The End Of Love

Deprivation Is The Mother Of Poetry.

We Are Ugly But We Have The Music.

A Song, You Know, You've Got A Tempo. You Know,you've Got Something That Is Moving Swiftly. You Can't Stop It, You Know? Andit's Designed To Move Swiftly From, You Know, Mouth To Mouth, Heart To Heart,where A Poem Really Speaks To Something That Has No Time And That Is - It's Acompletely Different Perception.