Lay Down The Song You Strum, And

There Doesn't Seem To Be Any Tomorrow. Every Time I Wake Up, No Matter In What Position, It's Always Been Today.

Just A Reminder, If You Tell Anyone About What Happened With Jonah Last Night, I'll Destroy All Of My Writing And Never Play Music Again.

With Great Lawyers You Have Discussed Lepers And Crooks, You've Been Through All Of F. Scott Fitzgerald's Books.

I Never Saw Myself As A Folk Singer.

The Ghosts Race Towards The Light, You Can Almost Hear The Heavy Breathing Spirits, All Determined To Get Somewhere. New Orleans, Unlike A Lot Of Places You Go Back To And That Don't Have The Magic Anymore, Still Has Got It. Night Can Swallow You Up, Yet None Of It Touches You. You Can't See It, But You Know It's Here. Somebody's Always Sinking.