The songwriting was almost like something I did while I was waiting for my daughter to come back.
America is in a runaway-train position and dragging all the world with it. It's grotesquely mentally ill.
The pirate he will sink you with a kiss, he'll steal your heart and sail away.
I do have this reputation for being a serious person.
I paint my joy and I sing my sorrow.
And the seasons they go 'round and 'round And the painted ponies go up and down We're captive on the carousel of time We can't return we can only look behind From where we came And go round and round and round In the circle game.