There May Be A Time

Actually I Don't Remember Being Born, It Must Have Happened During One Of My Black Outs.

Indians Scattered On Dawn's Highway Bleeding/ghosts Crowd The Young Child's Fragile Eggshell Mind.

That’s What Real Love Amounts To - Letting A Person Be What He Really Is....most People Love You For Who You Pretend To Be....to Keep Their Love, You Keep Pretending - Performing. You Get To Love Your Pretense...it’s True, We’re Locked In An Image, An Act...

Lying On Stained, Wretched Sheets With A Bleeding Virgin We Could Plan A Murder Or Start A Religion.

My Great Joy Is To Give Form To Reality. Music Is A Great Release, A Great Enjoyment To Me. Eventually I'd Like To Write Something Of Great Importance. That's My Ambition - To Write Something Worthwhile.