Life Has A Way Of

I Lost My Dad. He Lost His Tomorrows And I Lost All The Tomorrows With Him. You Could Say That Now, I Appreciate Them When They Come. Now, I Want To Make Them The Best They Can Possibly Be.

Always A Chancer, Always Lucky, He'd Fall Into A River And Come Out Dry, With Fish In His Pockets.

Love Is Not A Theme. It's An Atmosphere, A Mood.

That Was All Part Of Giving Someone A Piece Of Your Heart; They Ended Up Taking A Whole Chunk Of Your Mind And Reserving It All For Themselves.

It's Funny How People Mark Their Lives, The Benchmarks They Choose To Decide When The Moment Is More Of A Moment Than Any Other. For Life Is Made Of Them. I Like To Think The Best Ones Of All Are In My Mind, That They Run Through My Blood In Their Own Memory Bank For No One Else But Me To See.