I Love To Go To The Studio

When My Wife Died, I Booked Myself Into The Studio Just To Work, To Occupy Myself.

Why Me, Lord? What Have I Ever Done To Deserve Even One Of The Blessings I've Known? Why Me, Lord? What Did I Ever Do That Was Worth Love From You And The Kindness You've Shown? Lord, Help Me, Jesus, I've Wasted It So. Help Me, Jesus. I Know What I Am. Now That I Know That I've Needed You So, Help Me, Jesus. My Soul's In Your Hand.

Life And Love Go On, Let The Music Play.

My Father Was A Cotton Farmer First And - But He Didn't Have Any Land Or What Land He Had, He Lost It In The Depression. So He Worked As A Woodman And Cut Pulpwood For The Paper Mills, Rode The Rails In Boxcars Going From One Harvest To Another To Try To Make A Little Money Picking Fruit Or Vegetables.

Understand Your Man, Meditate On It.