Music Is My Religion.

I Use To Live In A Room Full Of Mirrors, All I Could See Was Me.

If My Baby Don't Love Me No More, I Know Her Sister Will.

Will The Wind Ever Remember The Names It Has Blown In The Past? And With Its Crutch, Its Old Age, And Its Wisdom, It Whispers No This Will Be The Last.

Even Castles Made Of Sand, Fall Into The Sea, Eventually.

I'd Like To Get Something Together - Like A Handel, Bach, Muddy Waters, Flamenco Type Of Thing. If I Could Get That Sound, I'd Be Happy