Raise a million filters and the rain will not be clean, until the longing for it be refined in deep confession.
Garages, barns and attics are always older than the buildings to which they are attached.
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin
And this is our time-keeper, with a passion for percussion
The duty of lovers is to tarnish the Golden Rule
A sip of wine, a cigarette, And then it’s time to go. I tidied up the kitchenette; I tuned the old banjo. I’m wanted at the traffic-jam. They’re saving me a seat.