Fear is like the wilderland - Stepping stones or sinking sand

I am as constant as a northern star

Musically, I would never run dry. Any time I sit down to an instrument, I could write a song.

There was this mountain village in Russia where my music was getting in on some German radio station. I remember this because music used to get up to Saskatchewan from Texas. Late at night after the local station closed down.

Fibers in a variety of colors protrude out of my skin like mushrooms after a rainstorm. They cannot be forensically identified as animal, vegetable or mineral.

They paved paradise and put up a parkin lot With a pink hotel, a boutique, and a swingin' hot spot Don't it always seem to go That you don't know what you got till it's gone

For the first time in my career, I'm working in a fine-arts arena, so I'm finally getting some intelligent reviews.