You've Got A Deadline. Well, I Do,

Take One Step To The Side And It's All Absurd.

It's Four In The Morning, The End Of December I'm Writing You Now Just To See If You're Better.

Lift Me Like An Olive Branch And Be My Homeward Dove Dance Me To The End Of Love.

We Are Ugly But We Have The Music.

Most Of The Time One Is Discouraged By The Work, But Now And Again By Some Grace Something Stands Out And Invites You To Work On It, To Elaborate It Or Animate It In Some Way. It's A Mysterious Process.