I've Got A Reason To Believe We

Someone Could Walk Into This Room And Say Your Life Is On Fire.

My Voice Is My Improvisational Instrument, The Melody Instrument. The Guitar Is Harmonic Structure. I'm Not A Good Enough Guitarist To Improvise On It.

I Am Just A Poor Boy, Though My Story's Seldom Told, And I Have Squandered My Resistance, For A Pocket Full Of Mumbles, Such Are Promises. All Lies In Jest, Still A Man Hears What He Wants To Hear And Disregards The Rest...la-la-la-la-la-la-la-lala-la-la-la-la...

Improvisation Is Too Good To Leave To Chance.

I Would Not Be Convicted By A Jury Of My Peers, Still Crazy After All These Years.