Dear Ones, Beware of the tiny gods frightened men Create To bring anesthetic relief to their sad days
Sing because this is a food our starving world needs. Laugh because that is the purest sound.
'Tis writ on Paradise's gate, Woe to the dupe that yields to fate!
Plant a Seed so your Heart will Grow.
Now that all your worry has proved such an unlucrative business. Why not find a better job.
We have not come here to take prisoners But to surrender ever more deeply To freedom and joy.