I'm a child of the woods. I have that sort of sensibility.

Down the ancient corridors through the gates of time, run the ghosts of dreams that we have left behind.

I've been writing a lot of country music again. I've written some bluegrass material. I'm having a good time doing that.

Love like a phantoms lights but hold in the heart, it builds like the empty smile adorning a statue with sightless eyes.

Through the years as the fire starts to mellow, burning lines in the book of our lives. Though the binding cracks and the pages start to yellow, I'll be in love with you.

He earned his love through discipline, a thundering velvet hand, his gentle means of sculpting souls took me years to understand.

I feel it right down in my stomach when I'm in touch with something. I don't know what it is.