The Maestro says it's Mozart but it sounds like bubble gum when you're waiting for the miracle to come.

To every people the land is given on condition. Perceived or not, there is a Covenant, beyond the constitution, beyond sovereign guarantee, beyond the nation's sweetest dreams of itself.

I don't have any spiritual strategy.

The troubles came and I saved what I could save. A thread of light, a particle, a wave.

The art of longing's over, and it's never coming back.

I will not be held like a drunkard / under the cold tap of facts

Even without the mushroom cloud still I would have hated Listen I would have done the same things even if there were no death I will not be held like a drunkard under the cold tap of facts I refuse the universal alibi