You Who Choose To Lead Must Follow.

But Never Give Your Love, My Friend, Unto A Foolish Heart

Every Song Falls Short Of The Glory Of What A Song Could Be. That's Why The Urge Is There To Start Again And Yet Again. Often It's The Fault Of Rhyme. I've Discovered A Hundred Times That There Just Aren't Enough Rhymes To Say What I Wanted To Say, So I Said Something Else Instead. Sometimes It Was A Better Thing, But The Thing I Meant To Say Went Unsaid. So There's An Opening For Another Song.

There Are Things You Can Replace, And Others You Cannot. The Time Has Come To Weigh Those Things, This Space Is Getting Hot.

Comes A Time When The Blind Man Takes Your Hand Says Don't You See?

Counting Stars By Candlelight All Are Dim But One Is Bright; The Spiral Light Of Venus Rising First And Shining Best, From The Northwest Corner Of A Brand-new Crescent Moon Crickets And Cicadas Sing A Rare And Different Tune.