There's nightingales calling, shooting stars falling, like jewels in the rain.
I find everything a struggle.
October's gold is dim — the forests rot, The weary rain falls ceaseless, while the day Is wrapped in damp.
I don't know where emotion emanates from exactly. I'm full of it, that's all I know.
Everything's stolen. Everything precious - be it a kiss, or be it James Brown - gets misappropriated to the aid of the advertising executives. So, an act of reclamation, somewhere else to be: that's what I want my music to be. Somewhere you can step into. A place.
Wonder in everything No matter how great or small... Same thing that's scrawled across the stars Is written under our skin... There's a time to search for understanding Sometimes you just got to sing New horizons, new horizon within