On The Stone That Remains Carved Next

I Started Writing Songs After I Heard Hank Williams.

For Whose Sake Did You Live, For Whose Sake Did You Die? Forgive Me, Baby, For What I Didn't Do.

Even I Don't Know What I'm Saying Most Of The Time.

There Are Degrees Of Happiness. You Go From One To The Other And Then Back Again. It's Hard To Be Completely Happy When Those Around Us Are Suffering And Groaning From Hunger.

People Today Are Still Living Off The Table Scraps Of The Sixties. They Are Still Being Passed Around - The Music And The Ideas.