Walk The Lines Of Nature's Palm Crossed

I Can Never Make Up My Mind If I'm Happy Being A Flute Player, Or If I Wish I Were Eric Clapton.

Come With Me To The Winged Isle- Northern Father's Western Child Where The Dance Of Ages Is Playing Still Through Far Marches Of Acres Wild.

It's Only The Giving That Makes You What You Are.

In Writing Lyrics - Well, For Me, Anyway - It's About Getting Into Character, You Know? 'who Is Writing This?' In The Case Of The Original 'thick As A Brick,' Supposedly A Precocious, Very Young Child Who's Fantasizing About His Future And The Context Of All The Confusing Elements To Which School Boys Are Subjected At That Time.

It's Nice To Be Recognized, But It's Not Great To Have It Too Conspicuously Recognized, If You See What I Mean. Gold Records On The Wall, Or Titles After Your Name, It's Just Not Something... I Don't Feel That Great About It.