If you would and you could brighten my northern sky.

...you're a rare rare find A troubled cure For a troubled mind

Fame is but a fruit tree- so very unsound. It can never flourish 'till its stock is in the ground.

If you would and you could brighten my northern sky.

Time has told me not to ask for more, someday our ocean will find its shore.

I think there's something extraordinarily nice about seeing the dawn up before one goes to bed, [] there's something uncanny about it.

Do you like what you're doing/would you do it some more/or will you stop once and wonder what you're doing it for?