For the first time in my life the weather was not something that touched me, that caressed me, froze or sweated me, but became me.

And when the fog's over and the stars and the moon come out at night it'll be a beautiful sight.

The empty blue sky of space says 'All this comes back to me, then goes again, and comes back again, then goes again, and I don't care, it still belongs to me

I pictured myself in a Denver bar that night, with all the gang, and in their eyes I would be strange and ragged and like the Prophet who has walked across the land to bring the dark Word, and the only Word I had was 'Wow!

Something good will come out of all things yet — And it will be golden and eternal just like that.

...but I preferred reading the American landscape as we went along. Every bump, rise, and stretch in it mystified my longing.

Is Virgin you trying to fathom me