Leaves Turned To Soil Beneath My Feet.

Women, O, Women! They'll Find The Baddest Meanin' In Your Words & Hold It Up.

I Still Haven't Quite Got Used To Eating Live Fish.

Music’s A Wood You Walk Through.

The Music Provokes A Sharp Longing The Music Soothes.

Sometimes The Fluffy Bunny Of Incredulity Zooms Around The Bend So Rapidly That The Greyhound Of Language Is Left, Agog, In The Starting Cage.