I'm A Fine Artist Working

My Heart Is Broken In The Face Of The Stupidity Of My Species.

There'll Be Icicles And Birthday Clothes And Sometimes There'll Be Sorrow

Once I Got The Open Tunings For Some Reason, I Began To Get The Harmonic Sophistication That I Heard That My Musical Fountain Inside Was Excited By. Once I Got Some Interesting Chords To Play With, My Writing Began To Come.

They Used To Laugh At Me When I Refused To Ride On All Those Double Decker Buses, All Because There Was No Driver On The Top.

I See Music As Fluid Architecture.