I was blessed with a gift. It's a gift and a curse. It never ends
I wanted to pay tribute to my musical influences: Buffalo Springfield, Lightfoot, the Beatles, the Hollies.
I love Don Williams records. And old Ralph Stanley and Bill Monroe.
I'm not the quiet sensitive little guy I was. I can't be. There's just too much after me.
Mystery's a thing not easily captured, and once deceased, not easily exhumed.
Why must I be lonely in love?