For Life Is Holy And Every Moment

I Had Nothing To Offer Anybody Except My Own Confusion.

It Was The Work Of The Quiet Mountains, This Torrent Of Purity At My Feet.

Write In Recollection And Amazement For Yourself.

She Talks With A Broken Heart - Her Voice Lutes Brokenly Like A Heart Lost, Musically Too, Like In A Lost Grove, It's Almost Too Much To Bear Sometimes Like Some Fantastic Futuristic Jerry Southern Singer In A Nightclub Who Steps Up To The Mike In The Spotlight In Las Vegas But Doesn't Even Have To Sing, Just Talk, To Make Men Sigh And Women Wonder I Guess.

My Karma Was To Be Born In America Where Nobody Has Any Fun Or Believes In Anything, Especially Freedom.