I Am Not Really Certain How Original

Desire Is Hunger Is The Fire I Breathe, Love Is A Banquet On Which We Feed.

The Hand Above Turns Those Leaves Of Loves, All In All A Timeless View. Each Dream Of Life Flung From Paradise Everlasting, Ever New.

I'm Okay With Roaming Around The World In My Bunk For Days On End. Maybe Every Third Day I'll Get A Shower Or Stumble Out At Dawn And Realize I'm In A Field In Poland. I Like That Kind Of Life.

The New Artists Coming Through Were Very Materialistic And Hollywood, Not So Engaged In Communication.

It Was No Hardship To Me To Spend Long Hours Reading And Writing.