I'd Had A Rough Childhood.

I Hang My Laundry On The Line When I Write.

I Believe That I Am Male And I Am Female.

And The Seasons They Go 'round And 'round And The Painted Ponies Go Up And Down We're Captive On The Carousel Of Time We Can't Return We Can Only Look Behind From Where We Came And Go Round And Round And Round In The Circle Game.

I Certainly Don't Want To Be An Angry Old Artist.

I'm Not A Kiss-and-teller. I Never Named Names.