The Wars They Will Be Fought Again

Music Is The Emotional Life Of The Most People.

I Want To Be Paid For My Work, Not Work For My Pay.

Reality Is One Of The Possibilities I Cannot Afford To Ignore

And I'll Dance With You In Vienna, I'll Be Wearing A River's Disguise. The Hyacinth Wild On My Shoulder My Mouth On The Dew Of Your Thighs. And I'll Bury My Soul In A Scrapbook, With The Photographs There And The Moss. And I'll Yield To The Flood Of Your Beauty, My Cheap Violin And My Cross.

Maybe The Culture Is [particularly] Shabby Now. Maybe It's Because I'm Over Sixty, That I Can Feel That About Everything.