Walk The Lines Of Nature's Palm Crossed

I Can Never Make Up My Mind If I'm Happy Being A Flute Player, Or If I Wish I Were Eric Clapton.

Come With Me To The Winged Isle- Northern Father's Western Child Where The Dance Of Ages Is Playing Still Through Far Marches Of Acres Wild.

I Don't Think People Really Do Listen. We Plug Into Music, And We Have Short Attention Spans. We Tend To Download Individual Tracks From Itunes Rather Than A Whole Album. We Buy Music Dvds And Watch Them Once, And Then They Disappear Into A Drawer, Or We Loan Them To A Friend, And We Never Watch It Again.

Our Politicians May Fail Us, But Status Quo Always Delivers On The Promise.

Why Do The Faithful Have Such A Will, To Believe In Something? And Call In The Name They Choose, Having Chosen Nothing.