Imagine All Of Us Living In Peace,

All Kids Draw And Write Poetry And Everything, And Some Of Us Last Until We're About Eighteen, But Most Drop Off At About Twelve When Some Guy Comes Up And Says, "you're No Good." That's All We Get Told All Our Lives. "you Haven't Got The Ability. You're A Cobbler." It Happened To All Of Us, But If Somebody Had Told Me All My Life, "yeah, You're A Great Artist," I Would Have Been A More Secure Person.

Imagine All Of Us Living In Peace, It's Too Beautiful To Just Be A Dream.

I Don't Believe In Yesterday, By The Way.

There's No Such Thing As Sculpture Or Art Or Anything, It's Just A Bit Of - It's Just Words, You Know, And Actually Saying Everything Is Art. We're All Art, Art Is Just A Tag, Like A Journalists' Tag, But Artists Believe It.

Please Don’t Spoil My Day; I’m Miles Away And, After All, I’m Only Sleeping.