My Guard Stood Hard When Abstract Threats,

I'm Ready To Go Anywhere, I'm Ready For To Fade, Into My Own Parade, Cast Your Dancing Spell My Way.

Everything In New Orleans Is A Good Idea. Bijou Temple-type Cottages And Lyric Cathedrals Side By Side. Houses And Mansions, Structures Of Wild Grace. Italianate, Gothic, Romanesque, Greek Revival Standing In A Long Line In The Rain. Roman Catholic Art. Sweeping Front Porches, Turrets, Cast-iron Balconies, Colonnades- 30-foot Columns, Gloriously Beautiful- Double Pitched Roofs, All The Architecture Of The Whole Wide World And It Doesn't Move.

He Swift Don't Win The Race. It Goes To The Worthy, Who Can Divide The Word Of Truth.

Then Take Me Disappearin' Through The Smoke Rings Of My Mind, Down The Foggy Ruins Of Time, Far Past The Frozen Leaves, The Haunted, Frightened Trees, Out To The Windy Beach, Far From The Twisted Reach Of Crazy Sorrow. Yes, To Dance Beneath The Diamond Sky With One Hand Waving Free, Silhouetted By The Sea, Circled By The Circus Sands, With All Memory And Fate Driven Deep Beneath The Waves, Let Me Forget About Today Until Tomorrow.

If I Had Wings, No One Would Ask Me: Should I Fly?