People Used To Say Nobody Can Sing

Fibers In A Variety Of Colors Protrude Out Of My Skin Like Mushrooms After A Rainstorm. They Cannot Be Forensically Identified As Animal, Vegetable Or Mineral.

Sex Sells Everything And Sex Kills.

And The Seasons They Go 'round And 'round And The Painted Ponies Go Up And Down We're Captive On The Carousel Of Time We Can't Return We Can Only Look Behind From Where We Came And Go Round And Round And Round In The Circle Game.

Bows And Flows Of Angel Hair And Ice Cream Castles In The Air And Feather Canyons Everywhere, I've Looked At Clouds That Way.

I Create By Feeling Rather Than By Intellectualizing.