Who Knows How Long This Will Last,

No Shame, No Solution, No Remorse, No Retribution, Just People Selling T-shirts.

I Now Derive Physical And Spiritual Pleasure From Gardening And There Is Tremendous Satisfaction In Knowing That I Could Survive Almost Anywhere If I Had To.

Nobody On The Road. Nobody On The Beach. I Feel It In The Air, The Summer's Out Of Reach.

For Every Moment Of Joy Every Hour Of Fear For Every Winding Road That Brought Me Here For Every Breath, For Every Day Of Living This Is My Thanksgiving

Johnny Can Get Down And Johnny Can Throw Up, But Johnny Can't Read.